Umi In The City

I took a shower with Fern this morning, my Boston fern. I have been meaning to give her a bath because I read that ferns enjoy a good soak in water, now and then. Something about washing my hair motivated me to thoroughly water my plant fern. So while I was shingling my hair, and looking at my fern, I started thinking.  I came to the conclusion that taking care of my fern has been an awesome reminder to nourish my relationship with myself. After much contemplation, I decided to write my revelations down.  Below you will find my reflections.  This is followed by a detailed explanation and then a re-cap, in case you'd prefer the short version. Know yourself Be Patient and Gentle Cut Back Shake off  Dead Leaves Communicate Switch up Fertilize Bask in Sunlight Indulge in Water Never Neglect  Know Yourself The best thing I could have done for my fern is to learn how to take care of it.  When I first got her, I approached her the same way...

I love a lot of books, I like even more, but few books change my life.  Our Black Year is one of those life changing books.  The book did not give me a whole new outlook on life (though I am sure it will for many). I picked it up because it was aligned with what I believe in, so I was not expecting that. What it did do was inspire me to get started on my own personal journey to support black business.  Our Black Year   quickly became one of those books that I recommend to others.  Our Black Year   is sort of a memoir of one middle-class black family's experience at buying from only black-owned businesses for a year.  Maggie Anderson gives you a window view into the challenges she and her family faced when committing to buying black. It was great to get a picture of what it's really like to fully commit to the cause.  In terms of writing style, it was an easy read.  I appreciated the research done on the current and historic st...

Like my mother, I have always been a tea drinker.  As a child, I enjoyed sipping tea with my mama during the early morning while my brother and father were asleep.  As a tween and then teen, I'd sit in the window with a cup of tea and a book. Reading and imagining that I was some character in one of my many novels.  I predict that my own daughter will be the same, as she already asks for tea when she sees me sipping my daily dose of liquid peace, or when she has an "ailment".  Yes, a cup of tea is the remedy for all hurts. Perhaps, I have helped encourage that, a blend of nature and nurture. I have purchased more than one mommy and me tea set, throughout the years. I always have gotten them from the collection  A Mother's Love by Amy  on Amazon. I have also acquired quite a few mugs from students throughout the years, including the one in the picture below. I am sure that has something to do with the tea stash had in every classroom I have taught in....

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  I have spent most of my adult life as a single mother.   I have spent most of my adult life as a broke single mother.  I like many people thought that investing in my education would automatically mean getting ahead financially in the world.  Well, I was wrong.  In fact, I made three times as much with my bachelor's degree and virtually no work experience than I did with my master's degree and years of teaching under my belt. So I am no stranger to debt.  Nor am I a stranger to the emotional ups and downs that come with debt and struggling.       In today's world, the average person lives with debt.  It is as if becoming an adult is synonymous with becoming indebted to a company.  From debt accrued during university to becoming a homeowner to purchasing our basic needs, debt is often a part of modern day living.  In fact, many of us are encouraged to get into debt as a way of establishing good credit.  Ironical...

My biggest deterrent to homeschooling was financing it.  When I first was inspired to educate my child at home, I was a single mother.  Working at private Islamic Schools was not exactly lucrative, but it was something. To go from the little I had to no income at all was scary, to say the least.  So I kept teaching year after year and regretting it year after year. It is not that I did not enjoy teaching. In fact, the job I was at is still to this day, the closest to my heart of all of my work experiences.  The problem is that my daughter, while she was passing her classes was a hesitant reader.  I was filled with guilt.  A teacher, whose child is struggling with reading.  How was this even possible?  I am an avid reader.  By default, my daughter should be one too. She owned over 200 books before she was born.  (I am an avid shopper as well.  A teacher, mom, book lover with an Amazon Card is a dangerous thing) I know th...