Skip to main content

To Every Thing There Is A Season

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under Heaven . . . .

Ecclesiastes 3:1

I’m no Bible scholar. I only know of this verse because of the Byrd’s song, “Turn, Turn, Turn.” It’s a reminder that the things we wish for don’t necessarily happen when we want, but in their season.

My friend Sheila in Denver is a living example of this verse. Whenever something doesn’t go her way or she doesn’t get something she longs for, she simply says, “It isn’t my season” and moves on. That’s it. No whining, no complaining, nothing. She surrenders to God’s plan for her and gets on with life. I wish I were more like her.

I’ve done something I never do on this blog: Included a photo. This is a photo from my garden of one of the rose bushes I brought with me to my new home from my previous rental. I had my doubts they would bloom, even after one of the groundspeople where I work told last winter to cut them back severely. “Are you sure?”, I said, with trepidation. “Yes.” He reminded me that they will come back like gangbusters, in their season.

And they did.

I was reminded that “to every thing there is a season” yesterday when I happened to be home and saw a commentary by Roland Martin on TV 1 regarding Judge Sonia Sotomayor’s nomination to the U.S. Supreme Court. He bemoaned the fact that African American women judges weren’t considered for the nomination and suggested that we hold President Obama accountable for his future choices for the Court.

I just shook my head and thought, “It’s not our season.”

Mind you, I’d love to see a sistah judge on the highest court in our land. But what would it have said about President Obama and African Americans in general if, at our first turn at governing the nation, we looked out only for our own interests and not the interests of all the other groups who helped bring President Obama to the White House? African Americans are no longer the largest minority in the U.S., and we need to get with that new reality. We need to forge alliances across racial, ethnic, and other lines to be able to secure our interests down the line with the support of others. We already have an African American justice on the Court (for what he’s worth – and don’t forget, there were black folks who actually supported Justice Thomas’ nomination), and he’s the second African American to have occupied a place on the court. What we need are women of all races sitting on the Court, not just women of two races – black and white. I have faith that, when the proper opportunity arises, President Obama will appoint an African American woman to the Court. However, I want to see all marginalized groups represented on the highest bench in the land, not just my own people.

Plus, the “black for black’s sake” argument doesn’t resonate with me given how conservatives have been teeing up Judge Janice Rogers Brown to be the first African American female justice on the Supreme Court. A former justice on the California Supreme Court who opposed racial set-asides and race-conscious relief in general, Brown was appointed by President George W. Bush to the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit, which is well known as a feeder circuit for the U.S. Supreme Court. This was the same court Justice Thomas was appointed to for a little more than a year before ascending to the Supreme Court. In the words of my former judge, “He wasn’t there [the D.C. Circuit] long enough to write his name on a paycheck, much less author any significant opinions.” If Roland Martin were to go shopping just for black female judges qualified for the U.S. Supreme Court, Brown is more qualified than Thomas was when he was nominated. But I wouldn’t want her on the Supreme Court.

Just as the roses bloomed in my garden in their season, I believe we African American women will have our season, too, when it comes to nominations to the U.S. Supreme Court. It just isn’t now.


Popular posts from this blog

When You Leave The Ghetto, Don't Bring It With You

NBA player Gilbert Arenas brings a gun to an NBA locker room. NBA player Ron Artest lets his pit bulls run wild and free in Loomis, California while playing for the Sacramento Kings. NFL player Michael Vick did time for fighting dogs. And NFL player Plaxico Burress is doing time for shooting his damn self.

What do all these men have in common? BMNB would say an inability to make a profound paradigm shift. I’m less eloquent than BMNB is, so I’ll say it differently: The inability to leave the ghetto behind.

Yes, call me saditty, bourgie, elitist, stuck-up, whatever. I don’t care. Until you’ve had a tweaker ruin your Thanksgiving turkey, you don’t even know (more on that later), and I’m not trying to hear you.

Living in Western Placer County, my husband and I continue to hear stories from folks like us who had to flee “those who can’t leave the ghetto behind.” You know these people, and they come in all races. In our case, we had returned to Sacramento in 2004 and 2005, respective…

Black Woman Blogging's Gun Control Proposal

Thanks to a relative who sent me death threats, I became a gun owner. Reluctantly.  What can I say.  You don't choose your family.

That said, I'm for gun control.

As far as I'm concerned, America lost its moral compass when we didn't do squat after Sandy Hook.  If you can allow a madman to murder children and not be moved to do nothing, you have no moral compass.  Period.

Now that we've broken an unfortunate record for the number of people killed in a mass shooting, perhaps we as a country are ready to get our minds right about gun control.  Perhaps.  So in that spirit, I offer my gun control proposal.

First, we need to agree on some real (not alternative) facts and principles:

1.  There is no such thing as an unlimited right.  Yes, people, there are no unlimited rights protected under the Constitution.  Your right to free speech?  Well, not all speech is protected under the First Amendment and even protected speech can be limited by time, place and manner.  Your…

Retired Man Walking: Too Young to Retire, Too Old to Take Shit

A while back I ran into a friend and fellow professional employed by the State of California, and he offered me his perspective on State employment as a tail-end Baby Boomer like myself -- someone who can't retire because he lacks the requisite age or years of service, but, unlike myself, is tired of taking shit from superiors who don't know what to do with you.

Although my friend gave his permission for me to use his name in this blog entry, I decline to do so because what he does is so specialized that it would not be hard for anyone to identify him as one of the few African American men, if not the only African-American man, in California state civil service who does what he does. For purposes of this blog entry, I will refer to him as he now refers to himself:  Retired Man Walking.

Retired Man Walking, or RMW, has an interesting philosophy he applies to working for the State as a professional who isn't old enough to retire but has been around long enough to know the s…