Disney's New Black Princess Movie Coming 2009 - Finally a Princess for Our Princesses!

Hi All,

Sorry I have been out of touch for so long.
I have been hard at work making the vision a reality for Being Family Magazine.

I happened upon this news if you haven't heard and wanted to share it.

As a Mom of a Black Princess, a New Orleans native whom was once a Black Princess and now a Black goddess, I am ecstatic abut the possibility of this film.

I am getting on the contacts today to get Being Family Magazine a connection with this film to come in 2009.

Here are the details released thus far!

The Frog Princess will introduce the newest Disney princess, Maddy, a young African- American girl living amid the charming elegance and grandeur of the fabled French Quarter. From the heart of Louisiana's mystical bayous and the banks of the mighty Mississippi comes an unforgettable tale of love, enchantment and discovery with a soulful singing crocodile, voodoo spells and Cajun charm at every turn.

They've come up with an original story that is deeply rooted in the fairy tale tradition, and it's filled with great humor, emotion, and musical moments.

Talk to you soon. I promise to update the blog with regular posts.

Let me know if there's something out there you want to see covered in the pages of the magazine!

Rochelle

beingfailyeditors@yahoo.com

Being Family - My Past, My Present My Future

I grew up in New Orleans, a mid-seventies child, the middle daughter of a truck driver father (he's not my biological father, but he's the only daddy I have) and a factory worker turned beauty salon owner mother. My life was and still is full of family.

My memory is filled with large and small family gatherings every weekend starting on Thursday evenings and not ending until sometimes Sunday nights. Last weekend it was Auntie Stephanie and the children (she had 6). This week it’s Cuz (Cousin Lou and Nikki). And interweaved constantly were Ms. Barbara, Aunt Joanie and in later years Cricket (Ms. Joyce), my mother’s best friends.

It was this constant family environment and loving care that allowed me to thrive as a child and set the foundation for my life as an adult. I have fond memories and pictures of me as the nursery school queen at five years old; the spelling bee at the New Orleans Lakefront Arena - my own Akeela and the Bee story. And then, there was the time that my third grade boyfriend, Norbert, gave me ring as we walked home from school. My younger sister, Akia, still teases me because she says she saw him pick it up from the ground and give it to me. And she still laughs when I say that she’s lying. He bought that ring for me, that’s why I treasured it.

There were also some not so fond memories. Like, the near fatal car accident that my mother had that prevented her from being at my sixth grade graduation and many other events because she was afraid to drive. But, they are tempered by my uncle Tommy stepping in to do a trial run of my public transit bus route to my new Junior High School; and, the thrill of doing it by myself on that first day of school.

I had a covering that allowed me to explore life knowing that I had a safety net. I had the confidence to proudly tell my high school boyfriend that if he couldn't love me unless we had sex, he needed to find someone else. I didn’t think he would do it. But, he did. I had the boldness to apply to one of the most prestigious universities in the country in spite of Mr. Applebee’s (my white, male, Catholic English teacher) discouragement . His reasoning was that I certainly I couldn't get into Notre Dame because he hadn’t gotten in when he applied so many years before. But, I digress.

I had almost an arrogance about coming back from academic probation my sophomore year of college. I had obviously messed up and knew that I had to buckle down to stay the course of achieving my Notre Dame education. My academic counselor said my performance was an “enigma,” usually students tanked their freshman year and started to even out their sophomore year. I had done just the opposite. When she said it I had no idea what “enigma” meant; but, since then I have come to embrace the word that means “something hard to explain.”

A short four years after college graduation, the world wind of marriage and motherhood came all at once (I was six months pregnant with my daughter before our wedding). And, I suddenly I had a need to create the same loving and nurturing environment for my children that I had as a child; the same environment that had allowed me to flourish; the same safety net it had provided me.

And, while creating that sense of loving community for my children, I realized that I had a need to create that same community for myself. I now know that creating a community for my children is also creating a support network for my self. Sharing with your friends and family allows you to have a place to go when your husband gets on your nerves, when your children seemed to have turned into little monsters, when you’re not sure how to balance your personal ambitions with that of your responsibility as a mother and wife.

After my daughter was born, we decided that I would stay home. But, after a short while, I realized that I had ambition to be more than a mother. I wanted to leave my mark on the world. I wanted to work toward something that would touch many lives. So, began the search for work to compliment my life and my personal mission of strengthening, celebrating and supporting Black families.

I realized that I wanted to do something that spoke to me as a mom, a wife, Barbara and Johnny’s daughter, as Staci and Akia’s sister, as Shanda, Tonya, Tanya, Tish, Brenda, and Felicia and my Circle of Sisters’ friend, as Kailyn, Jarrid, Alacia’s and Kaiya's aunt, as well as daughter-in-law, sister-in-law, cousin and the host of other titles that I wear within my extended family.

I found that work in what I consider to be a divine series of events that have lead me to be the Founder/Editor in Chief of Being Family Magazine, the premiere African American parenting and family lifestyle publication. And, who better for the job than me, the woman whose whole being is rooted in family?

So, I work toward the Back to School 2007 launch. I finally get to share my testimony with my generation as we nurture the next generation.

And, with any luck all those years in the making of me will contribute to many more strong, beautiful African American families and the stories that come out of them.

Tell me what you think!

Rochelle

Mama's Bling

Wednesday, November 16, 12:15.

I signed my name on the time slot. But, the feelings involved were a mixture of fear, dread, pride and protection. I was bracing myself for what I thought would be my daughter’s teacher telling me how I needed to work with my sassy, active, sensitive, emotional, smart, beautiful, high-energy, brown child.

Those feelings were the result of my prejudgment based on daily observation of her new teacher, Suzanne, of whom I had decided was abrasive and judgmental. And, even though we had already had one conference - three weeks into my daughter’s introduction to her class - that resulted in me ending it with a hug because I was so happy with what she said; it was also after the two or three day interaction she had with my daughter that prompted her to ask me about her last school, because “she is waaaay behind.”

Oh, no she didn’t just question my decision, my parenting, my work! Now I know I don’t do everything right. But, if she didn’t know that I take my title as parent seriously, she’d better ask somebody! Because for me, parenting is political. Parenting is my contribution to the evolution of African Americans. And, questioning my choices, was like questioning the motives of the civil rights movement. Being born my child allows my children access to civil liberties like thoughtful education choices and spiritual grounding. And, having to defend my pre-school choice for my child, left me put-off by this white woman, her tone, her words and everything else about her for that matter. But, of course, there is always room for mother-guilt if someone makes mention of anything perceived as a shortcoming.

The day of the conference came. And, I was ready to tell her what I thought of her opinions, especially any criticism, constructive or not, suggestions or anything else I perceived as a negative comment on me as a parent or a negative assessment of my child.

And, as I rushed around, dropping my husband off at work (we were down to one car at the time); then double backing to my neighborhood to drop my daughter at school (we usually walk); then stopping at the bookstore to check out the latest magazines (they come out on the 15th); then onto to Target to get some desperately needed things for the house (once again because we are down to one car and I don’t know if I’ll have the energy to do it another evening after my husband comes home from work); then meeting my girlfriend to drop my son off as she does an 11:30a pick-up, I didn’t have much time to think of my response to any questions about my child’s lack before the conference. But, I knew one thing, I was going to keep a straight face and listen before I spoke. And try my best not to go off on this white woman of whom I had decided was a bit to callous and abrasive and judgmental for my taste. I don’t care about all of the other parent warnings that she is a great teacher. But, she’ll be the first to admit that she isn’t good with parent interaction.

But, to my surprise, the conference was the blessing that I needed just at that time in my life. I couldn’t believe my ears as her teacher talked about how my daughter was the ideal Montessori student. She’s an independent worker. She is a leader. She is pretty. She is smart. She’s nurturing. She respects the environment and others. She thinks she could be the first African-American woman president. And, she needed to hurry up because she would be at least ninety and she wanted to get to the white house when she was there.

With all of that complimenting, I had to ask, "You don’t think she’s too bossy." I can’t believe I’m the one bringing up criticism. To which she said of course she’s bossy. But, she’s not overbearing and she can get what she wants without being hurtful.

I knew it was all true. And, even talking about her perfectionism which leads to frustration when she can’t get something done right the first time, brought a mutually admiring smile to both of our faces as we talked about instances where we’d seen it rear its ugly head and how we each handle it. I shared with her that I think the problem is the genetic workings of my husband’s type A personality and my high emotions to which she said she could definitely see the combination in my daughter’s personality.

Those comments were more than enough for my ample bosom to stick out more that day. But, the icing on the cake was when I asked her if she thought there was anything that we needed to be doing at home to support what she is doing in the classroom. The response to that question is one I’ll cherish for the rest of my life. She said “No, you are obviously in tune with what’s going on with her; and with what she is demonstrating in the classroom, you guys are perfect parents.”

After that, my eyes were a little brighter, my voice a little friendlier, and my heart and blessing cup a lot fuller. Because for once, my hard work was being acknowledged - by a professional none the less. (How quickly my opinion of Suzanne changed.)

The bottom line is those words are the reason I do what I do. And, today I can feel good about leaving a successful career almost seven years ago. Because as much as I would love the home I dream of; and the money to do all the things I want to do and buy all the things I love, it's OK that I sacrifice material comfort. I can handle the financial stress my marriage is under. And, we all know what that can do to any marriage, but a Black marriage is even more fragile under these circumstances. I can handle it all because my son, my daughter, my husband and my family matter that much more. And as much hard work as it is to pour into them, into us, I do it so we can SHINE out in the world.

And, their SHINE is all the BLING that I need.

Loving Through the Fire

The highest expression of love is to give without expecting.
The highest expression of love is to accept without exception.
-india.arie

These are the words I try to remember as I patiently wade through marital problems with my husband of 7 years.

It's amazing when I think about the many women in my circle who are currently having or have had marital problems. The reasons range from financial irresponsibility and stress to drugs and legal problems. Many of us are educated, thirty-somethings with all of the benefits of our parents' hard work. The home, the cars, the private school education for our children or the public school in the best districts. And, though we are not dealing with what our mothers dealt with - physical and mental abuse, intimidation, abandonment - many of of us still find ourselves looking up at the corner of Disappointment Ave. and Frustration St. And, when looking for guidance on which way to go, we are reminded of the statistics of success, I mean lack there of. With these reminders many decide to just stay there or take "I Can Do Bad All by Myself" Blvd. instead of riding or walking a little further to find that "A Litle Bit of Lovely" Circle and the "Other Side of Through" Lane are just up ahead.

But, how do you stay focused on what seems like a "forever journey." When looking for encouragement, you are hard pressed to find it. Whether it's the words of your family - I remember "stuck on stupid" as one description for me - to the dismal conversations that always include reference to "the out clause ," there is not enough encouragement for Black marriages to stay together. The are many more examples of getting rid of him or her and doing it all by yourself. And, while that works for some people, I am trying to stay focused on the course of staying married.

My girlfriend recently said to me, "I don't see why you and your husband have problems, with all of the patience and understanding you have." Well, I do have patience and understanding. But, that does me little good if my husband can't see it and acknowledge the value in it. If he stays focused on my faults - my emotional eating problem (a gift from my New Orleans cultural heritage), my lack of financial saavy (I'm getting better though), my lack of June Cleaver homekeeping skills (I've just decided we need a cleaning service to meet his neat-freak standards), my sarcastic and flippant mouth (a gift from my family of strong women. I'm getting better though), my laid back personality (in contrast to his Type "A" personality), it's difficult to see the forest of goodness through the trees of pettiness.

But, the positive side of my faults are the these things that attracted him - i.e. I can cook a mean meal; I am a rock in a crisis; I'm loyal, always looking for solutions; I'm strong yet gentle, beautiful, intelligent; and I have a soothing, loving, comforting spirit based in faith. If he can just remember me in this struggle we can make it through.

And, if I can just remember the man that he is beyond his faults, we'll make it through. Remember who he is beyond all the frustration I see. Remember he's one of the smartest people I know. He's financially savvy. He's driven. He's focused. He has a big heart (This man was a Big Brother when he wasn't married and didn't have children as well as coached a soccer team of 10 year old girls at the Y in a Black neighborhood that was and is 25 miles from his house.) He's loyal. He's handsome. He can be so sexy. His strength. His contribution to these two beautiful babies we have. He takes care of the bills every month. Family is very important to him. And, most importantly, he loves us (even though he doesn't say it much). And hopefully, he's speaking to me after reading this. He's very private.

Don't get me wrong, he gets on my last nerve with his stuff. He doesn't listen. He tries to be controlling. He's stubborn. He can be close minded. He can be selfish, self-righteous. And sometimes, when I am reminded that he is far from my ideal physically, I think about some of the offers that have come my way.

"Truth is, I'm not the reason you're so angry. Truth is, you're not the
reason I'm so passive."

And, even though we are not the picture perfect couple right now, I look forward to the other side of the prayers and tears, which is waaaaaay past the fights about money, the emotional disconnection, the power struggles.

I can't say how that will happen. Sometimes the divide seems too wide. But, I know that I stand on the faith that "God ordained marriage and He can sustain it." So, if I can remember the highest expressions of love that india.arie speak of and work on self love while praying us both past the generational curses of our familes and communities - single-motherhood, father abandonment and divorce, financial divide and others - we will stand as an example and testiment to God's will for marriage and family. I think that is a worthwhile cause. So, I'll stand

"We're only human. Let's shake free this graviy of resentment and fly high.
You're only human. Let's shake free this gravity of judgement and fly high on
the wings of forgiveness."

In the meantime, I'll continue to search out whatever encouragement I need. And, I'll gladly continue to share it with those that need it and are interested.

Here are some articles that refer to the state of marriage in the Black Community.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A53586-2005Mar21.html

http://blogs.suntimes.com/mitchell/2006/11/enough_of_this_selfishness_tim_1.html
http://www.saveus.org/docs/factsheets/portrait_black_family7-12-05.pdf#search=

http://www.acf.hhs.gov/healthymarriage/about/aami_report.htm

Turning the Corner on Father Absence in Black America
http://www.americanvalues.org/pdfs/turningthecorner.pdf

Can I get a witness?
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