Shooting People Is Not The Purpose Of The Police

We are done dying!

I am exhausted. I can’t not think of them all at once anymore. I’m losing my patience with my patience. The protestors must persist. Similarly, cops must stop claiming to be afraid. Who died and made you executioner? Just follow the rules. Protect and serve. How can another person’s beating heart be so possible to ignore? But you continually perform such transgressions without thought. That system is broken. Our ancestors want it fixed. In other words, again: No justice, no peace.

 Anyone can teach you about love. I can make you good at it!

| Photo & prose by Jackie D. Rockwell |All Rights Reserved © 2008-2020 |

19th Amendment, 100 More Years+ of Pussies Grabbing Back and Embracing The Nasty

If women had just accepted our reality as it was a hundred years ago, we wouldn’t have family planning and pilots licenses, let alone, the obligation to gut our current administration with our hundred years of hard earned voting rights! Hopefully, after November, we won’t need to spend eons more time and money undoing the destruction made by the kraken that is donald trump.

Last April 2019, I was asked to participate in a suffragette photoshoot by my friend and fine art photographer Jeanine Michna-Bales, whose brilliant response to a call for entry for an exhibition SUFFRAGENOW A 19th Amendment Centennial Exhibition, has left me immensely inspired.

Eager to glean her vibe and see her vision come to life, I and others played dress up in period costumes with suffragette banners and American flags and all! Together we channeled early twentieth century feminist icon the NY Times called “The poster girl of radicalism,” Inez Millholland.  I even managed to conjure Madam Walker for my vintage up-do.

Please read Jeanine’s inspiration for the project at JMBalesPhotography.com. 

See the suffrage exhibition titled “Standing Together: Photographs of Inez Milholland’s Final Campaign for Women’s Suffrage; Photo Essay 2016 - 2020” here.

Humblebrag.. I am the woman in the “Women Hold Up Half of The Sky,” photo.

These are a few of my own behind the scenes photos taken in the Swiss Avenue Historic District of Dallas. Shot with my iPhone..

“Past Life Progression: Backs To The Future.”

“Cameo.”

“Dallas Suffragettes.”

“Hats.”

“Clicking: Sounds of non hesitant bursts.”

 

Anyone can teach you about love. I  can make you good at it.

| Photos & prose by Jackie D Rockwell |All Rights Reserved © 2008-2020|

#WomenVoteChallenge | A Woman Empowered

I VOTE: because she wouldn’t have it any other way.

It was one hundred years ago today, August 18, 1920, that the 19th Amendment was ratified giving most American women the right to vote, and Mama was soon to be the last twinkle in her daddy’s eye. She was born August 19, 1921 with 12ish siblings before her. She didn’t likely vote all of 77 years, but at the very least 27 years, making choices and adjustments and strides to pass on to me and my future grandchildren. I am proud to possess and pass on, all she’s done on the path as a Black Texas mother, business woman, servant of God, descendant of slaves, and advocate and doer of good deeds in the forward movements for all women.  Oh and she was the queen B lady #masterbarber in Dallas! #HappyBirthdayMama 

I was nominated my Jeanine Michna-Bales and challenged to invite 19 women to take a photo if yourself and write why it’s important to vote this year... Find us over on FB or hashtag #womenvotechallenge on the IG.

Update: January 2021

This year, I am inspired to curate a collection of memories in photograph of what I refer to as the Spirit Jewels of Mama's House.  #spiritjewelsofmamahouse 

 Anyone can teach you about love. I can make you good at it.

| Photo  & prose by Jackie D.Rockwell |All Rights Reserved © 2008-2021 |

Kamala Harris, “A Movement Towards Eliminating Sex Consciousness in This Man’s World”

Just because most Black Americans are Descendants of Slaves doesn’t mean we get to corner the market on blackness and the black experience in America. So now, if the hoteps and xenophobes of the black persuasion would just give peace a chance, we can get somewhere, and not be forever singing 🎵...hold on just a little while longer....🎵

“The art of being a woman can never consist of being an imitation of a man.” - Dr. Olga Knopf, Viennese Psychiatrist 

And that! Kamala Harris is not. Give this Black woman a chance at cultural and political intimacy and prowess and leave her womanhood out of it. Allow for her and allow for us to benefit from her feminism, her blackness, her maturity, her savvy and expertise. Give this mother of three full and independent credit for running into the fire of a stress-prone political life.  Give her some overdue respect as a person who can successfully (eventually) lead this country. 

Now is the time for folks to get over the bogus controversy of her past life as a Woman of Color in law enforcement. With her movement into the Executive Office, what better opportunity to use our votes to change unjust policies?

Bitching and moaning are old school pass times that solve nothing. We need to get our voting arms ready and use our voices to support Vice President Harris.  In the words of Barrack Obama “Let’s go win this thing.” 

 Anyone can teach you about love, I can make you good at it!

| Prose by Jackie D. Rockwell |All Rights Reserved © 2008-2020 |

Why I traveled during Covid-19

This is not a cautionary tale. This is a humble brag... An anecdote about deciding to travel by air, from one state to another, during the Covid-19 pandemic. It is not my intent to downplay the seriousness of coronavirus and dismiss the risks of exposure, but just for the record, my personal going places and doing things via air plane was pretty uneventful. Unless I don’t count my return Lyft with a driver who was unmasked and talkative about the COVID conspiracy. Fortunately, I was cloaked to the nines.

I was more concerned about flying back to the Texas red zone on August 1st than when I flew into Chicago on June 20th during this Covid-19 pandemic. Texans are generally hardheaded and we think we know better what’s right. It’s probably why I felt okay getting to/from the airport in Dallas via ride-share in the first place. But my birthday was coming up and my daughter was anxious to get me to where she was. Chicago was a safe place to travel to and Southwest was flying there.

I didn’t expect to stay as long as I did. I packed for a month, thinking I might not return to Texas at all. Every time I go to Chicago I never want to leave. That place has a vacation destination soul, and the working people aren’t offended by tourists unless they ask for ketchup on their hotdogs. You won’t get any, so just don’t ask. 

Maybe I’ve lived there in a past life. I’ve been back in Dallas less than a week and I regret leaving that city. I felt cleaner and healthier and saner there.

Departing Dallas for Chicago, and departing Chicago for Dallas; Southwest Airlines was stellar in service and on-timeless, as was airport staff and the TSA peeps. Well TSA is always a little tense, seemingly waiting for the defiant ones of us to show up so they can exercise brutal force to get things under control. Yes, that’s my current perspective. Movement through both MIDWAY and DALLAS LOVE airports was effortless, so I had no reason to have an attitude anyway. Ample travelers about and everyone distanced and masked with no one in a rush. Unexpected delight.

I didn’t need to touch a thing except my phone and driver’s license before boarding the plane, but of course the seat belt buckle, the armrests, the seat back tray and window shade made me wonder how deep Southwest cleans between flights. There were no real or literal signs of assurance like the smell of Pine Sol or some industrial disinfectant to signify any effort. At this point, I had no choice but to trust them. And I’m the one person I know who pays attention to flight attendant instructions every single flight, but I’m certain there was no mention of airline covid cleaning operations and preparations to ingratiate passengers.  I thought it, but didn’t care enough to ask. To be honest, I had already reconciled that I could be one to get coronavirus and die from it just by being in public to this degree or the lesser degree of going grocery shopping or to Starbucks or taking possession of dropped off packages at my front door. Just in case, I Sharpie tattooed “DNR” on my chest and told my daughter my wishes.

Just kidding. About the tattoo.

I wasn’t trying to tempt fate by traveling during this pandemic. This trip was essential to making time for my 26 year old. It’s been a hard year since we’d been together. She needed me and I needed to see again with my own two eyes, the wonder of her existence. I needed to find out that I’d become allergic to her husky. I needed her to feel that no matter her level of professional and personal success, or her struggles, I will be ever present, as “mom.”

As risky as the travel by flight may have been, the trip was an occasion that strengthened our mother-daughter bond. Her hospitality was joyous and keen. I watched her do my laundry, work from home, manage some serious neighborhood racial terrorism, overcome virtual workplace adversity, help me with an audio-visual presentation and encourage me through my higher education decision. We came to a greater understanding of each other. We cried about past situations and affirmed our boundaries with each other and the folks in each of our worlds. I read to her revealing mommy blogger posts I published years ago with the world, that she was never privy to. She told me some inner most secrets and hurts of her childhood and adulthood. Our ebbs and flows of sharing was tumultuous for a solid day. We were overwhelmed yet thankful and more in love by the end of it. What better way to find our ancestors and the Catholic, Buddha, Christian and Pagan God of miracles surrounding and protecting us?

In some strange way, this Covid-19 pandemic will prove to be a symbol of solidarity for those of us it doesn’t destroy. And the year 2020 will turn out to be a treasure more than it is a tragedy, I’m sure of it. So be grateful if you can.

 

And P.S.. help stop the political bullsh*t in this country. Are you Registered to vote?

 Anyone can teach you about love..but I can make you good at it.

| This original photo & prose by Jackie D. Rockwell |All Rights Reserved © 2008-2020 |