had been resting in his space peacefully, and we disturbed it–waking it with our boisterous ways like we’re so good at doing.
defenders of nature cannot pummel the detriment of human angst and weaponry; there are always fatalities because of stupidity.
we are quick to hurt & harm what we do not understand, and then we wonder why things turn on us.
I watched “Troll” on Netflix just a few minutes ago, and I hadn’t thought I’d be as captivated as I was, but I had been so enthralled by and engrossed in this movie.
If you haven’t watched it, you may want to put that in your queue for later viewing.
a favorite thing: Photo Credit by Tremaine L. Loadholt
when the chill hits at just the right moment, I cuddle up with my old lady, sip on some peppermint brew, and watch my favorite animated Christmas movies.
the crisp air outside can stay bolted to the night–I’ll find warmth nestling under her love. the phone bleeps, and it’s you. your dimpled face appears, and you tell me about something that had you balled-over from laughter, and the only thing I can think of is how amazing it would be to be under or over you, instead.
I lean back, sink into the pressing of my chair, and dream of a place where Christmas lies on your lips and I am opening you as my gift, instead.
another favorite thing. The Old Lady, The Little Monster, Jernee Timid Loadholt. Photo Credit by Tremaine L. Loadholt
Nothing prepares you for the triggers of life — things that have been repressed and only dug up when the nights are cold, and a biting tongue and eager ears want you to confess.
I had not been feeling well late last week and into this current one, and one of the ways I gifted myself peace was to watch The Obituary of Tunde Johnson. What I did not prepare for was how intense the movie was, what it would stir up within me, and how hard I worked to bury some memories I thought would never be exhumed.
Tunde Johnson is a gay Nigerian-American teenager who is in a secret relationship with his school’s white lacrosse champion Soren. Soren is closeted and officially dating popular girl Marley, Tunde’s best friend since childhood. The day of Soren’s birthday, when the two boys have planned to come out to their families, Tunde is stopped and fatally shot by a police officer. Following his death, he wakes up the previous morning and becomes trapped in a time loop, forced to relive the day of his murder, which keeps happening in different ways no matter how hard he tries to change it. — Wikipedia
As I watched Steven Silver, the actor who played Babatunde Adesola Johnson, in the movie, I gasped. I inhaled and exhaled broken hearts, defeated conversations, and intense pain. I know what it feels like to keep a secret because the person you love cannot (will not) announce they love you, too.
However, my experience was slightly different.
I am Tunde Johnson
She was like no one I had ever met — a Scorpio with a vast vocabulary, dimples so deep they appeared when she breathed, and a soft and welcoming voice. Words connected us. They were our saving grace, and in them, we toyed with more than just language.
In my 20s, I never thought I would ever fall for a woman who was almost engaged, then engaged, then married, and who became a mother.
We let words on a screen pull us in, caress us, and provide comfort and care when no one else was around. I skipped college classes to communicate with her. I took trips to where she was to see her. We hid in the shadows to be close — skin to skin — to love without thinking of consequences.
But there are always consequences.
Fighting to remain in her life as a demoted figment of a sentient being, I clung to the title of “best friend,” and amongst the loss and shame and hurt of dealing with a drug addict for a mother, the intensity of the workload for classes, and a woman I would never be first to, I began drinking.
I lost myself because I only wanted to find myself with her.
And in the end, I had to realize there was no US. There never could be. She had safety in someone else — she always would have. And I would go back to the shadows alone.
We would not be that happy couple, smiling during dramatic throwback arguments, and married by 30 years of age.
I had to swallow my pride. I had to move on. It took sixteen years before I recognized my worth — sixteen years.
Tunde could recognize this sooner than that.
As a Black bisexual woman, Tunde’s story speaks to me
I know I am not alone in this. After Tunde is stopped (for what, had not been disclosed, but one can quickly gather it is racial profiling — the hideous culprit) by two White police officers when he is on his way to Soren’s birthday party. Watching it as it played out, I immediately knew what would come next.
A gunshot. A fatally wounded Black man. Dead. Why? He was reaching for his cell phone.
The fear of being pulled over by police officers for many of us who are Black and trying to live is real. I am always eyeing my rearview mirror. I tense up when I pass by a squad car. I say quick, breath prayers and move past them as carefully as I can.
I could feel every gunshot as they flew toward his torso. I teared up, watching him fall to the ground.
And every single day, Tunde relives his death, but in a way that many young Black people have died years prior to the inception of this film.
One moment that stands out for me is when he meets Soren’s father, Alfred O’Connor, who is a television host centered on his ill-informed beliefs and says to him, “You have a television show,” and he shakes his head. This comment comes after they have discussed Alfred stating his words and expressions can label him as a racist or a bigot, and he seems to not have a voice in the world.
Ironic, right? He’s a television host with his own show. His voice is louder than many of ours.
The Obituary of Tunde Johnson creeps in, strips itself naked, and rains down on all of us the pain of what it feels like to live while Black and queer in the United States of America.
It puts on screen the sort of looping coverage Black communities go through regularly, watching unarmed Black folks die at the hands of police on the news or social media time after time. — Mikelle Street, Out Magazine, February, 2021
I thought I had moved on. I really did.
And I imagine, some of you, should you opt to watch this movie, will find bits and pieces of your life tangled up in it as well. I thought I had buried enough of that part of my life away that I would not allow the tears to fall.
Sure, I have written many poems for this woman — she was, and I will bet, still is amazing. But, those are fleeting moments — visiting for a few minutes here and there, and then they find their hiding place once again.
But watching this movie and leaning into the depths of Tunde’s reaction after every death silenced me. I sat with my heart in my hands, my mouth agape, and my soul on pause.
We die many deaths while living and we are expected to bounce back from these deaths continually.
Some of us are walking, unhealed calluses of ourselves, never to recover, yet they advise us to shape up or ship out. The proverbial ship will set sail without us.
Maybe I needed this, though. Maybe I had to be reminded of my past, from something that is present, and probably will be a part of my future in order to fully heal.
To be Black (and queer) and alive in America is a death sentence
Babatunde Adesola Johnson knows this, and with every death, he died, he had been given a chance to remain alive in the end.
To think of those who did not survive, will not survive, and have yet to become a statistic, my prayer is that we defy the odds.
Dressed in Red. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Finding peace at every turn and growing at my own pace
If I can be honest, this past week has been a great week for me — overall, one of the best I have had in several months. I am overjoyed to see these words typed on-screen. There were some stressful points at work, but the fantastic team I am a part of makes things much better. We all jump right in and ride the waves of the slew of calls we get, and everyone is so supportive.
It beats swimming alone when you know the tide will be at its highest. It beats chipping away at a mountain when you know you still haven’t reached its peak. It beats running away from something when all it takes is patience, prayer, and perseverance.
I am enjoying the drop in temperatures over the past few days. There is a cool breeze in the morning and at night, and the sun is not trying to body slam me into submission during the day.
This tells me — autumn is in the air, and I am here for it! It is one of my favorite seasons. I look forward to dressing in layers, drinking hot cocoa, making stews and crockpot soups, and cuddling under my favorite blanket with Jernee.
Peace is moving in steadily, and I invite it with open arms.
A moment to relax and enjoy a favorite pastime
Last night, Friday, August 12, 2022, I watched Dog Gone Trouble via Netflix. After I’d rid myself of the workday, walked Jernee, ate dinner, and snuggled up with the Little Monster in my favorite chair, I switched on Netflix for what has become a favorite pastime of mine — ending my workdays with laughter and animated goodness or enjoying a weekend bonanza of all things kid-friendly.
My happy place is a space for all ages, yet I am content experiencing it alone.
This movie had so many high points for me and, of course, a lesson I believe most adults could benefit from, especially nowadays. Just in case you’re interested, the trailer is below.
I will give you a bit of a spoiler — the dancing tree squirrels will have you laughing your head off with the leader’s crazy amount of phrasings, including the word “nuts.” Trouble (the dog)actually says on more than one occasion — and I am paraphrasing — “This just sounds so inappropriate.”
If you love to laugh, enjoy cartoons or animated movies, and have about one hour and 30 minutes to spare, then give yourself the gift of Dog Gone Trouble. It’s worth it.
Comfort foods and their impact
Sunday, August 06, 2022, I made one of my favorite comfort foods. There’s nothing truly special about it — it’s made with delicious and basic ingredients and will also allow you to have leftovers for at least two to three days after you have prepared it.
What is it, Tre? you ask. I call it “hearty beef dip.” You can substitute the meat for any other meat you’d like: ground chicken, ground turkey, or ground pork. After adding cheese sauce and shredded cheese, light red kidney beans, onions, and chopped spinach, what you get is a feast in your mouth as you dip corn chips into this hearty goodness.
Hearty beef dip & Chips. Gif created by Tremaine L. Loadholt
I learned about this basic yet filling meal from my best friend almost twenty years ago. It has been a staple in my home since then. I do not have the meal often — perhaps once every other month. But I always look forward to making it. My stomach does too.
Growing at my pace and it feels good
Soon, I will partake in something completely out of my comfort zone and new to me. I am shaking as I type this very paragraph for this newsletter, but something has moved me recently to continue to step out of my comfort zone. And doing so has gotten me to a calmer place.
This cannot be a coincidence.
If I attack or stare down fear and take it head-on, the things I avoided doing seem less scary.
I have more research to do, some basic contact emails to send, and becoming one with this new venture as I learn more about it.
*Fingers crossed I will have good news in the coming weeks*
Ever since I was a child I have had this instinctive urge for expansion and growth. To me, the function and duty of a quality human being is the sincere and honest development of one’s potential. — Bruce Lee
Welcome to The Grieving Room. I am here. You are here. We are not alone in this.
A Cornered Gurl 
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