In the Black with Yolanda White

Sitting in a canoe along the Wisconsin edge of the Mississippi River, I had no idea that I would someday be questioning, “the whip.”    I do not consider myself political, particularly when it comes to choosing sides.  I like the myth of bi-partisans and independents.  Myth or not, I intentionally look carefully at both sides of the coin.  Civility is key here.  Yet, the door remains locked to what is Civil, for some, during this Milwaukee race for County Executive.  At this late (or early) hour, I hardly know who to vote for.  Yes, I admit it.  On the “rockin’…

By now the tender age of 40, which is reported as the new 20, I sincerely believed that I’d be blissfully married to a somewhat emotionally and financially stable man, and enjoying the company of one or two children. Instead, I am enjoying the company of one really cool kid; my sweet, but lost man-child boyfriend, a bitter ex-army manger who still wants to be friends, several disgruntled, clinically instable, broken-hearted and broke ex- boyfriends who can’t let go and a couple of eager on lookers, who forgot to buy tickets to my love shack. Sure Milwaukee is a large…

An Anti-resolvers Resolve I will not make another diluted, New Year’s resolution, promising to be better than the day before, vowing to stay continents away, from the fake designer shoe stores, or gleefully filing my gut, with delectable sweets, causing my backside to swell, at the sight of each sugary treat Still, I do not promise to give up, give in, give more or give less of anything I own or possess. It is my intention to walk daily, with my goals and promises and stop to reflect internally, in the event that I miss. I will not regurgitate another…

I, Yolanda White, being of fairly sound mind and increasingly more sound body, herby solemnly swear, as the goddess is my witness, to never make another New Year’s Resolution, again, so long as I live – till’ death do I part To rephrase a celebrated children’s fable, “I will not make New Year’s resolution, Sam I am. I will not make them here or there, not in a box or with a fox, I do not like resolutions, Sam I am, I will not make them anywhere.” By January, the time when “tisn’t the season to be jolly” anymore, I…

Part IV – The Conclusion December 31, 2010 When I pulled up today for my second donation of plasma, it was 6:37am. There were at least 10 people standing on the sidewalk in front of the building, cautiously behind the bushes that line the fence on the side of the entrance.  A dangerous place to stand, I found out last week.  After seeing many of those people wait nearly two hours, only to be sent home because they were too early, I just couldn’t risk it.  I opted to wait in my car, away from anything that could be remotely…

Part III It is 11:09am.  My plasma has not been acquired yet, but, since I just had a mini-physical, I now know why I’d be rejected.  Fortunately, I have not had (in the last 12 months) physical/intimate contact with anyone from the Congo, or had sex with a man who had sex with another man, (but that’s why they call it DOWN LOW) had no recent tattoos, and not had sex for money; that’s why I am donating plasma.  God help us all if it comes to that. At 11:13am, I am finally called and qualified.  I am truly curious…

Part II So…getting my gift for plasma, is proving to be a bit more challenging, because I am an early bird.  Catching worms is my thing.  I was raised on it It’s now 7:40am, and though I was fourth in line back at 6:00am, which I did not know was too early, I am still waiting.  Mercifully, they open the door to the waiting rooms.  They don’t really have to start till 8am, even though both waiting rooms are now packed, beyond 21 persons.  There are at least 50 people here now.  The side chatter is, that I can expect…

Part I Times are hard.  We hear this daily.  In 2009, the American Community Survey reported, 14.3 percent of the U.S. population had income below their respective poverty thresholds. The number of people in poverty increased to 42.9 million.  The economy is bad and has shoved some of us Milwaukeeans into an impoverished state.  If impoverished is too strong a word, let’s use struggling. If these are lean times for business, why is it then unheard of that it would be lean times for individuals? It is safe to say that at this very moment, someone you might not suspect…

On Murray Street, in 1974, I was unaware that there were lines, invisibly drawn on the streets, that separated whites, from blacks; rich from the poor; and the east from the west. We tricked and treated, at night, with no parents and no one was snatched, propositioned or attacked with a bladed apple.     When we moved from Murray Street or Oz, as I like to refer to it today, I had no idea I wouldn’t fit in “The Projects” of Westlawn. I hadn’t a clue, that I “talked funny, walked funny,” or that there was anything wrong at…