The random misadventures of a (formerly)Single Super Mom

As a little girl, I was a superhero fanatic. I watched Wonder Woman, the Super Friends and every hero show I could.  I started collecting comics when I was about 15, and still have a huge box of them in my closet.  Wonder Woman was my favorite from the beginning, and she still is. Superman is a close second. The very first comic book I bought with my own money was an issue of the Teen Titans, and that was the first time I saw a Black female comic character. Bumblebee was introduced in 1976, and the name "Melissa" means "Honeybee", so I was absolutely entranced. Storm from the X-Men was a close second, as I admired her strength and intelligence as well as the bad ass way she delivered a beat down. Soon after I discovered that my ultimate superhero, Wonder Woman, had a Black twin sister named Nubia, who was sculpted from Black Clay as Diana was formed from White Clay.  Bumblebee courtesy of DC Universe Comic strips were the first to introduce Black characters , but t

I grew up in the North, the Midwest specifically, but always knew of my roots and my family that lived down south. I heard the stories of the conditions that my father had to face while trying to go to school in Morgan City, Louisiana. The struggles of generation upon generation of family members and the racism and hatred they faced. The injustices that were done to them. And the triumphs as they succeeded and overcame.  When I told my mother 20 years ago that I was moving to the south, she was genuinely afraid for me, because the perception of the world down here is very scary sometimes.  I've lived in North Carolina for 20 years, and until a few years ago I hadn't really traveled around the area.  Most of my family still lived up north, so time off was spent visiting them. My trips to Georgia consisted of going to the airport, South Carolina was Myrtle Beach, and that's basically it. My husband is a native Californian and a huge history buff that has been down here longer

With all of the racial tension so prevalent in the world today I had to sit and ask myself.  What the hell?  What are we going to do about it?  How do we fix it?  How do we change it? The simple answer is, I don't know.  I know what I was taught in my home.  I know what my mother and my grandmother and great grandmother taught me.  I know what I taught my children.  I remember the stories that I was told by my elders growing up.  The stories of segregation and fear. The stories of being treated "less".  Of having to work harder to be better to overcome. A very good friend of mine posted something on Facebook that resonated with me.  Because she's 100% right.  I have endured years and years of " microaggressions " and back handed comments because I'm (blank) for a black girl. My name is Melissa.  Non-threatening.  It's a White girl name.  My co-worker, whom I love dearly has the name Duwana.  She's White.  Every single day someone that is ne