Brian Banks’ Accuser to pay $2.6 Million Judgment (or not….)

 

Another moment for SWEET JUSTICE! Well kinda….

bbanks

As reported by the Long Beach Telegram-Press, Wanetta Gibson, the woman who claimed that then high-school student Brian Banks raped her, only to years later, be caught on tape denying that a rape ever happen, has been told to pay the piper.  The Long Beach Unified School District won a $2.6 million default judgment against Ms. Gibson, who sued the district back in 2002, claiming that inadequate security at Long Beach Poly High School led to her being raped by the high school football star. Brian Banks served five years in prison for this alleged crime while Wanetta walked away with a $750,000 settlement from the District.  She has to repay over twice that amount because of the punitive damages and attorneys fees assessed.

 

Brian Banks hasn’t gotten a million dollar settlement, the school district has. Wanetta Gibson hasn’t been jailed for making false accusations or the conspiracy to destroy Brian Banks’ life.  In fact, she continued to defraud others and had multiple run-ins with the law over the past 10 years.  So what makes anyone think that the school district will recoup this million dollar judgment. Yes they can take her future wages. Yes they can take her property. But all reliable sources indicate….that she has NONE. She will never make enough money to pay all of that money back. Nor is she sitting on a car or mansion that they can repossess to collect the judgment. So, it sounds good, and is great on paper but….it won’t change the past and it won’t pay Banks for his time he lost.Brian Banks has been trying to reclaim his years, busting his butt at one football camp after another has last month signed with the Atlanta Falcons. I am grateful that he gets the chance to live out his dreams and maybe I’ll even make it down to the Georgia Dome to see the brother play next season.

 

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What’s In A Name?

Who's Your Daddy?

Who’s Your Daddy?

What’s in a name?

A whole lot if you ask me.  Or maybe, not a lot is more accurate of an assessment. I had a conversation today with someone who is a self-professed feminist. She is highly intelligent, ivy league educated, raised in an affluent neighborhood by well off parents. She and I have had many conversations that I’ve leaned into only to decide to lean OUT of 10 minutes in. Today was no different. This is how it went :

Her: Did you hear Kim & Kanye had their baby?

Me: Yep and I read somewhere today that they named her Kaitlyn Donda West.

Her: She gave the baby his name?!

Me:  Uh yes, he is her father.

Her: And? Kim has a name.

Me: (with a dumfounded face) But you do know she didn’t make the baby alone right? Oh is this because they aren’t married? Because I know they plan to get married so may as well.

Her: N o it has nothing to do with that. Kim has her own name so her baby should have her name. My kids will have my name.

Me: Well that’s no surprise since you got married last month and didn’t take your husband’s name, not even for the “I now present you Mr. & Mrs. part.

I knew I needed to stop there. But I didn’t.  I proceeded to combine my love for the bible with my Game of Thrones obsession and said “You are supposed to leave one house and cling to the other once you get married.” You know what they say. Even the devil can quote scriptures.  OK so I’m not a biblical scholar (as clearly the scripture says “cleave”)  but my point was, you got married and you want to have no association with your husband. Even if I can get with that, meaning you don’t want to take your husband’s name, you also don’t want your child to have his name either??  Everyone is welcome to their opinion and by all means do what works for you. I know from reading her blogs and being in close quarters with her that she believes a woman loses all identity by giving up her name and that it is an antiquated patriarchal practice that she grew weary of watching her own mother marry, divorce, and remarry.  And luckily she found a man who was okay with that. Lord knows I don’t have one and my father is clear that he cares nothing about me keeping his name because the man who marries me will have to PAY for me for the rest of my life so he deserves to give me his.

But it opened up a whole school of thought about last names and more importantly, the naming of children born out of wedlock.  In the few hours since this conversation, I’ve interviewed several of my closest friends. Some replied the child should always get the father’s name, regardless of the parents’ relationship status. Others said it depended on where the relationship was going. One friend, who had a child while still in high school, told me she knew when she was pregnant what kind of man her child’s father was. He had even suggested she get an abortion. So she knew that child would have a labored (no pun intended) relationship with her father (which 16 years later, she does) so she did not give her his last name. In Kim Kardashian’s case, she is finally divorced (as of June 4th), and planning to marry her child’s father. So if she wants to give her his name, who really cares? I could be flip and say if Kanye is buying diapers the baby should have his name. But it’s not really about that. I guess my frustration came from the idea that Kim K, or any woman at all, ceases to be who she was because she takes on her husband’s name or gives her child her husband’s name.  The person I had the conversation with was clear that her children would have HER name or perhaps some hyphenated version of she and her husband’s name. And to that I replied well I think children with hyphenated names are inherently confused.  I should’ve stopped talking. I was speaking out of emotion. I was being flip. But I was honest.

If I can disappear into the series of letters that become my surname then did I really exist before I pledged to join my life to another?  It is my belief that once I am married, I have pledged to another to be MORE of myself by growing, refining, polishing, becoming a better me. And he will inherently do the same.  Becoming a  better, stronger, more refined version of himself.  There is no loss in losing a name or adding another’s name to yours. And there is certainly no loss in bestowing it upon a child of that union or relationship.

Thoughts?

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Justice Delayed

Well, the verdict is in. Or shall we say NO verdict is in. The jury in Jodi Arias case decided today after 13 hours of deliberations that THEY could not decide whether or not she gets life or death.  According to Arizona law, the jury had to come to a unanimous decision on LIFE or DEATH.  And if they could not do that, they got to go home and make it someone else’s problem.  See, the rule is if there is no unanimous verdict, that jury would be excused, a NEW jury would be impaneled, and the penalty phase would begin again. All those pictures would be shown again. All the lies would be told again.  All the tears will flow again.  Whether or not you believe in the death penalty, I think we all believe that families in pain should be given closure.  A wound that was on its way to be healed, has just been ripped open. Again. Justice isn’t always doled out in the way we think it should be. And although often promised to be, rarely is it swift.

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I’ll Always Love My Mama, She’s My Favorite Girl

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Dear Mommy:

Being a writer (if that’s what I call myself) allows me a certain creative freedom that I don’t often know what to do with. But what good is being a writer, if I can’t share my thoughts about something with someone other than my two biggest fans ( you and Daddy). And so I decided to share this short note not just with you, but with the world. Hope you don’t mind.

Mother’s Day is a special day but not because Hallmark says so. It’s because it’s the one day of the year that everyone else recognizes what I know everyday. That mother’s don’t just give life, they make, create and mold life. And everyday, every year I grow older, I realize how much of me was molded, created, and made by you.  Nowadays I catch myself staring at a picture of myself, with my hair pulled back, and do a double take. Because after 33 years of being told “you look just like your daddy”, I now see this face as a mirror of yours. And I’m filled with an overwhelming sense of joy and pride that now, I look like my mama.  Not every little girl gets to grow up, never wanting for anything, never knowing what it meant to be “without”, never wondering if she was loved. You gave me life and then you gave me love. Love that I can only dream and pray to replicate in my own children. When others struggle and say they can’t ask their parents for help, I find it incomprehensible because I always know where to get my help. First Jesus, and then my mama.  It’s not everyone’s reality. But it is mine.  Many people wait for funerals to tell how much they love someone. You’ve always lived by the motto “Give me my flowers now, while I am here to smell them.” So today, I give you these words, as flowers, so that you know and never doubt that you are the best thing that ever happened to me.  God broke the mold when he made my mama. I can only hope he puts it back together to create me as a mother into your image. So for all the times I had dance, theatre and piano in the same day, I say thank you.  For all the random credit charges from stores at Lenox Mall my freshman year, I say thank you.  For all my secrets you kept from Daddy (lest he have a heart attack), I say THANK YOU.  For teaching me how to nurture and care for those I love dearly, I say thank you. Thank you for praying that God would give me to you. Because I thank Him everyday that he gave you to me.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Love,

La’Keitha Jonise

mama770515635_5miDy-LIMGP1531

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JODI ARIAS VERDICT IS IN!

jodi-arias

After 2 1/2 days of deliberation, the jury in the Jodi Arias murder trial finally has a verdict, to be read in about 90 minutes.  My prediction:

I think that we wanted to think that the jury wanted manslaughter as a more “comfortable” option. The 2.5 days it took them to deliberate could mean ANYTHING. I’m not a betting woman. And the Casey Anthony jury made us all out to be fools. But I am going to guess………..that they got it right. 1st Degree Murder.

90 minutes to see if I’m wrong……*please sweet baby Jesus get it right*

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Boston Bomber Criminal Complaint

bostonbombers

If you were wondering what Dzokhar Tsarnaev was charged with and more details of the investigation, don’t let the media tell you, read it for yourself. Verrrrry interesting.


http://media.cmgdigital.com/shared/news/documents/2013/04/22/137389471-Criminal-Complaint-Dzhokhar-Tsarnaev.pdf

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The Bourgeois Black Girl’s Guide to Wearing a “Natural”: The Finale

A week has gone by and I haven’t died. I haven’t called my stylist for an emergency appointment.   I haven’t straightened my hair. It has however, been the longest 7 days of my life.

Day 7: Am I wrong for humming “Started from the bottom now we’re here…” while untwisting my hair this morning. Last night I cut my twisting time from 35 minutes to 20 minutes.  That is change we can believe in.  And untwisting this morning only took 15 minutes! I’m a pro. Experiment OVER. Back to work and today no one speaks a word. My boss, a white man, who has been on vacation comes back tanned. I say “Look who got some sun!” His reply, “Oh looks like you did too!” Huh? I certainly have not. That’s the best he can do when he sees my new hair. He thinks I look blacker. O_o

End of the week and the last day.

End of the week and the last day.

Well I had 2 more days to wear this hair this way because I didn’t have a hair appointment until Wednesday. And although I didn’t detail my notes, I can update you by saying on that last day I looked a WRECK.  I was mentally back to day 1 where I was nearly in tears. But what saved me? I let go of the need for perfection….because I had no choice. I was Curly Sue in the front and Homeless Harry in the back. And no amount of tucking, fluffing, or picking would help.  So I tried all I could and then left the mirror, and the house, and eventually slinked into my cube and prayed that my day would fly by until I could go to the salon. But the point is, I made it out. I bit the bullet. I had achieved, even a minimal, IDGAF. And that was enough progress for me.

When I started this project, I didn’t intend for it to unearth my opinions or insecurities about hair. I already knew what those were.  I didn’t intend for my writing about it to win me any friends in the “natural” hair community or get me a free membership to the Natural Hair Mafia.  I did intend however, to prove to myself that if I wanted to or needed to wear my hair in its un-pressed state that I could. And that I could still be cute while doing so. And that I accomplished.

I have learned that wearing my hair un-pressed isn’t for me. That was my hypothesis. And in the true form of the scientific method, my conclusion is the same.  I am a hair snob. I need my hair to be tame and perfectly coiffed (or close to it). I also like my hair to blow in the wind. And with all the curls and product and fluffed roots, I couldn’t catch a gust of wind if He who can speak to the wind and the waves whistled on my head himself.  Judge me. I like resting my head on the headboard or my car headrest without worrying that my hair will be flattened.  I also suffer from the childhood disease of “Rapunzel-itis”. You know when you put a towel on your head down your back to pretend it was your hair, and you swung it from side to side and tossed it over your shoulder? Well, I still do that. I pledged Delta 15 years ago, my line name is “White Girl”, and well, do with that what you will. Whatever. I am who I am. And I love it.

I also learned that I value my time way too much to spend it on hair. I’m not spending my Sunday as “wash day” for the week. And I don’t want to make a habit of spending an extra 30 minutes in the morning and at night trying to maintain this lifestyle.  Every once in a while or a few days before a salon visit in the summer, I will rock it! But I don’t have an extra 7-10 hours per week to devote to this. I am a sleep-until-the-last-minute kind of girl. I want to jump up, comb my hair in 4-8 minutes and be done. So the time commitment involved is a deterrent and I can own that. I can easily pay $60/week to get my hair done and make every one happy.

So now I know I CAN wear these styles and look good doing it. And I will do it again! I believe that hair is an accessory. I should be able to press it, curl it, wet it, weave it, and love it all. I should be able to change it like I change my silver earrings, high-heeled shoes, or Gucci handbag.  And I should not be judged for my choice du jour.  So if you are a card-carrying member of the NHM, heed the warning “STEP OFF”, before a band of misfits pressed girls rise up against you.  And love each woman for what she wears in her heart and not what she wears in or on her head.

Back to Black.

Back to Black.

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