Hello, My Name is Rae and I'm A Workaholic...

Some years back at the end of a meeting with my professor in pastoral care, Dr. Homer Ashby looked me straight in the face and asked, "So Rae, tell me why it’s so important to get an A?" Caught off guard, I sat speechless with this stupid look on my face. In the silence I started to squirm. I knew that my back was against the wall and there was no way out. I couldn't believe that he had put me on the spot. And he didn't seem phased by my discomfort. He sat with me in the silence and waited.

Sitting there I felt as if my way was being questioned and I resented it. I went through a platter of emotions. I even became mad at myself for requesting that darn meeting. But that too was a way of life. Those “A-’s” I had received were “not acceptable,” I told myself as I marched to his office. “I need an A!” He had struck a chord with me.  Call it over-achiever, workaholic, driven, type-A personality... whatever, but it is a way of life for me. It is my norm. I have this need to fill every waking moment with something. Whether it’s a thought, an act, or my words.

But that day in his small office, sitting in the silence, the tears started streaming down my face. The six year old little girl had taken center stage. I knew exactly what it was. I could hear Mama’s voice, "Bitch! You ain’t shit! You ain’t never gonna be shit!" That's what Mama told me from the time I could remember and since then, I had been working hard to prove Mama wrong. Enough was NEVER enough! The more I did, the more I needed to do!

As I write this blog, I find myself driven to the point of exhaustion. In the last 11 weeks I have gone non-stop. I not only designed the spring line for my bracelets, I designed a Diva AIDS Awareness Bracelet Line, had a photo shoot with models for the collection and then revamped the entire web-store. I launched a blog, established a partnership with BlackDoctor.org and became a contributing writer for SouthsNews.com. I revved up my social media campaign, created a fan page on Facebook and started tweeting like I have lost my mind. (Over 7,000 tweets in 8 weeks.)  I didn't stop to take a breath and I rarely stopped to sleep.  Even when I try, most nights I lay in bed thinking. My mind is working constantly. Even on the road I work before I speak, answering e-mails, checking on my Facebook and Tweeting along the way. I seem to never shut down.

 I will admit that I attribute some of my breakneck schedule to being self -employed and basically a one woman show. My new personal assistant, Jenna, told me the other day, "Umm Rae, I think “normal” people who are self-employed take breaks and don't work all day and night. We’re here to help. Whatever you need us to do.” I know she’s right. In the last few weeks I have been blessed with some very talented volunteers, Jenna included. I even picked up a bead apprentice, Renisha. #TeamRae is helping to make my life a little easier, I just have to be willing to delegate. And I must do it because I'm starting to feel the weight of it all and that could make me sick. Stress is not a good thing for anyone, it is especially not good for people with AIDS. On Twitter I laugh it off with a tag #workaholicsUnite, but this really is serious.

 Eddison, my host at Davidson College told me, “I think your hard work has made you what you are Ms. Lewis-Thornton.” He is correct. My drive has helped to shape my life’s accomplishments. It’s not enough to want to do it. You have to be willing to put in the hard work and make real sacrifices. I get all that. For Real. But the fact is, I wonder what it will take for me to balance my life.  I wonder what it will take for me to meet the approval of that little girl, still fighting for approval.

Yesterday, as I was trying to shut my mind down to take a nap before my speech at Davidson, I remembered a book I read in seminary about Sabbath. I started to think that maybe what’s going on is much deeper than meeting ones' approval. I wonder if somewhere I have a fear of rest. The author of the book states:

“We are terrified of the painful grief that is too hot to touch, sharp and piercing, so we keep moving faster and faster so we will not feel how sad we are, how much we have lost in this life: strength, youthfulness, playfulness, so many friends, lovers, dreams that did not come true. When we stop for a moment we can feel the burning, empty hole in our belly. So we keep moving, afraid the empty fire of loss will consume us.... while speed keeps us safe, it also keeps us malnourished.”(p.53)

Yes, there have many been many losses in my life. Not only from my childhood and HIV/AIDS, but of love, space and things. In spite of these losses, I have to find the strength to stop the madness. I agree with the author, “while speed keeps us safe, it also keeps us malnourished.” Trying to balance ministering on the road and my other projects has indeed left me malnourished. I am certain that this is not what God had in mind when he gave me this assignment. Even Jesus took breaks for renewal.

So, starting today, I’m giving myself permission to read a book, bake Paula Deen’s lemon curd pudding, go to the Friday noon-day concerts at my church, knit and take long walks on the lake front. Yes, I understand that when I stop moving I may be forced to face the very painful losses in my life. But in rest, I will also face the things that will keep me safe: “prayer, touch, kindness and fragrance.”(p.53) In this stillness, I am sure that God will renew my spirit.

The Making of a Diva...

I have always been full of life, zeal and determination. Even as a child I was never afraid to see what was on the other side of the tracks, to learn and grow in all areas of my life. Growing up we didn’t shop at the big fancy department stores like Marshall Field’s, but it never stopped me from opening those doors to see what was there.

 I will never forget the first time I went into Marshall Field’s one Sunday after church. My church, Second Baptist, was located in downtown Evanston, a north shore suburb of Chicago, literally next door to Marshall Field’s. For months, I’d stand and look for long periods of time before and after church admiring the window displays. One Sunday, I made up my mind; I needed to see if what was in the store, was as pretty as what was in the window. From the moment I walked in I was mesmerized by all the pretty things I saw. I went from floor to floor, looking and touching the soft fabrics. On each floor, people would look at me with puzzlement. I knew I must have been out of place, this 11 year old little black girl cruising the rich department store in 1972, but I didn't care. I was in heaven.

 That day, I fell in love with fashion. And this was the beginning of my transformation into a Diva! I started making weekly stops after church to see what was new, coordinating ensembles from head to toe, day dreaming about the day I would be able to shop at this store. At such a young age, I had concluded that  the best look was a totally polished look, so I’d even stop at the Este Lauder counter and play with makeup colors that matched the ensembles that I had coordinated.   I loved those Sundays afternoons, and I  couldn't wait for the day when I’d be able to shop at Field’s.

 To my surprise, it only took two years for my dream to come true. One Saturday morning, Mama called me into her bedroom. “Here girl, take this money girl and go get yo Easter outfit.” I had learned to not ask questions, so I took that money and went straight to Marshall Field’s. I spent hours making a selection, but I finally settled on this beautiful peach dress that fit me perfectly. I decided that day that peach was a great color for me. After I finished up, I went home and showed Mama my dress. She stood there looking puzzled. “Ok, and your shoes?” she asked slowly. “I didn't get any shoes,” I declared. “I need some mo money.” Mama looked at me like I had lost my mind. “Bitch!” “Oh boy,” my heart dropped to the floor. I knew it was coming. “You spent all of my fucking money on a dress?” I stood there, looking all silly. I knew not to open my mouth or it would be over. There was a long silence and then Mama said, “Hand me my purse.” She just shook her head as she handed me more money. I couldn’t believe it! She didn't cuss me out much. She didn't beat me. I took a deep breath, “Thank you Mama! I love you soooo much!” “Mmm huh” was her response still shaking her head.

 As I made my way out the door, I took it as a sign from God that I must be doing something right. My relationship with fashion had been approved by God because Mama didn't beat me for spending all the money one dress. After that day it was a wrap. A Diva was born! There was no turning back for me. By the time I was 14 I had subscriptions to Vogue, Glamour and Cosmopolitan. I learned how to coordinate an ensemble with the blink of the eye. I learned about color and texture. I was fast becoming a fashion guru, at least in my own mind. By the time I was 17, I was seriously considering a job in the fashion industry, I had decided that I wanted to become a buyer for the big fancy stores like Marshall Field’s. Then, of course, in college I got hooked on politics and the rest was history as the saying goes. But, I never lost my love for fashion. If I do say so myself, I have impeccable taste and an eye for whipping together a fabulous ensemble. That will always be a part of who I am! AIDS will never take that away from me! #StillaDiva. Welcome, to “Fashion-Beauty Fridays” @ The Diva Living With AIDS Blog. More to Come....

 Post Script: Five years ago, Macy’s purchased Marshall Field’s. Like most Chicagoans I was sad. But when Macy’s changed the name I was outraged! I felt like a part of my history had died with this change. I have tried and tried, but I have not been able to bring myself to purchase anything beyond candy at the old Marshall Field’s. Thank God they didn’t change the recipe of Frango Mints...

Together We Stand!

Today is a big day for my social media campaign around HIV/AIDS. I am proud to announce my partnership with BlackDoctor.org. Unbelievable! The Diva Living With AIDS Blog is going mainstream in record time of four weeks flat.

This partnership is important for many reasons, in particular but for one that is really close to my heart. I often get asked by the media and some well-meaning people, “What are African-Americans going to do about HIV /AIDS in the Black Community?” Over the years, I have graciously answered the question to the best of my knowledge and ability. But recently, the radical in me has begun to resent the question and the irony of it all. Ok, hear me out. They are asking a black woman, a member of the race in question, who has dedicated a good portion of her life to dealing with the “AIDS issue” what are “we" doing? As if to put in question, not only my work, but every other African-American that has in some way addressed HIV/AIDS in our community since the beginning of the pandemic.

 When this light went on in my head, I flipped the script and asked these questions, point blank, “What is the AIDS community going to do about HIV/AIDS in the Black community? What is America going to do about HIV/AIDS in the Black community?” How dare you drop the entire HIV/AIDS problem in our laps. Don't we deserve the same help that the Gay community received in the first half of the epidemic?

 I bet I I know what you are thinking and probably mumbling to yourself, “OMG! She is soooo politically incorrect.” But like I used to tell my ex-husband, don't make me lie because you can't handle the truth. The fact is, a free-standing Black America would rank 16th in the world in the number of people living with HIV. That seems to me, to be an “us” issue rather than a “them” issue. Ok, I've said it. I feel better now. I’m moving on. I’m not gonna press the issue, at least not today. Just wanted to give you something to think about.

As an African-American woman living with HIV/AIDS I am proud of my commitment and the commitment of those I have worked with along the way. I have used every avenue available and now, despite  the critics, I am using modern social media avenues such as Facebook, Twitter and now my Diva Living With AIDS Blog. The World Wide Web is where the people are and BlackDoctor.org is proof of that fact. They have over 1.8 million readers.

 BlackDoctor.org is a credible and trusted resource for African-Americans to get healthy lifestyle information. They are a "WebMD" for Black consumers with a comprehensive database of accurate, relevant information. They have become the first point of call whenever African-Americans need medical/dental information or a referral to a qualified Black doctor.

 Beginning today, BlackDoctor.org will feature weekly one of my Diva Living With AIDS Blog posts in their HIV Learning Center. While they have had a long standing commitment to educate on HIV/AIDS, I am especially proud that this trusted medical resource is partnering with me to educate their readers on the issue of HIV/AIDS. They understand that I am not a doctor or a journalist, just simply a woman living with AIDS and having her say, her way. We are both hopeful that their readers will be enlightened about HIV/AIDS through my lens. And likewise, my readers will utilize BlackDoctor.org as a resource on HIV/AIDS and other medical issues.

 Today, I am especially proud that BlackDoctor.org believes my voice should be heard and are giving me a new avenue to do work around HIV/AIDS. For sure, the next time I get asked the question, “What is the Black Community doing about HIV/AIDS?” I can proudly point to this partnership as one more way we are working hard to educate our community about this disease.