Slowly the officer kneels down in front of the frightened 10-year old black girl. Her face is stained by streaks of dried tears and her lopsided pigtails have lost a few of their color barrettes. She tries not to shake and she tightly interlaces her fingers and clasps her hands together in front of her.

“What happened honey?” he gently asks.

His face is blurred despite his close proximity. Instead she clearly sees the stern and angry face of her father behind him. His dark eyes are piercing. His lips are drawn in a firm straight line. She would not yet realize the depths of pain she will feel if she says anything.

“Nothing…nothing.” she somberly whispers.

“Then why were you crying?” he prods.

“Because I was sad and had a bad day.”

A few moments of the delicate dance of question and vague answers revealed nothing of the chaos that transpired only an hour before. She knew she would not be protected if she said anything or attributed any emotion to recent events. So she stumbled over her words and took blame.

“I didn’t have a good day at school and I got in trouble. That’s all.”

She wanted to clutch her arms around the officer’s neck and plead for him to take her to a safe place. She desired to tell him of the brutal beating that left her younger brother with a bloodied nose and her with broken glasses with a cut across the bridge of her nose. The vision of her father holding her brother in the bushes with full closed-fists strikes made her shudder and she felt queasy. The sting from the back hand slap still rung in her head when she had attempted to save her younger brother. But she couldn’t tell the warfare of pain and punishment was a regular occurrence. No one would believe that the family who was all smiles outside their home felt terrified of the man who was the head of the home.

The position of father was really one of a ferocious controller who ruled the home with a hand ready to pummel at the slightest bit of provocation if any at all.

(c) Karen Harold 2009

more photos to come

I've had this concern since I've been single that due to my ethnicity and age, I'll be looking towards a life of loneliness.  When I was a teen and as I've matured, I've met many "older", single black women and heard then lament about the lack of dating interest in them.  I thought at first it was just an individual experience, but I have to admit that I see it more and more and wonder if I've fallen into that category?  I think I am.  Apparently per a statistic I've seen several times, I'm part of the 70% of black women who are single.  Am I maneuvering down the path of becoming an old maid?  

I've increased my social activities since the demise of my last relationship.  I've never had issue dating outside of my race.  To be honest, I've exclusively dated Caucasian men because there has rarely been interest in me from men of my own race.  Also, I know I'm attracted to white men, so it doesn't bother me.  However, I believe my fear of being alone has increased.  Mind, you, I'm not desperate to marry or anything.  I enjoy my independence, I'm used to doing things alone, I have a great circle of friends, I have a warm and loving family, and I have no biological clock ticking because I've been blessed with wonderful children.  But I do miss the regular companionship, connection, and intimacy a significant other can bring. 

I went to a party and couldn't help but notice all the couples milling about - which I think is great - however I couldn't ignore the few older single women of color who sat silently looking around longingly at couples and sensed the sadness and loneliness.  "Oh man", I thought, "I'm part of their club".  I caught myself comparing myself to them and it was unfair, judgmental, and unkind.  I felt so ashamed of myself.  In reality, I'm the one with the problem.  I'm projecting my own insecurity.

Will I be one of them?  By the look of my life, the answer is yes. 

I'll find the cute outfit.  Dress to impress if the venue and environment calls for it.  Have hair and makeup flawless or just go simple.  Either way is completely fine with me.  I can be adventurous.  I can be funny, laid back, and charming, however I admit I've lost the confidence that can be seen as intriguing and sexy.  I've become shy and silent in situations where I know few to none of the people there. I often go out on my own instead of staying home alone, but I notice I don't "connect".  It's my own work that has to be done.  Unless and until that is resolved, I'll find myself in the same situation as many lonely ladies. 

How sad.