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Loving Love: Can Mia Love Increase Blacks in the GOP?

Published August 31, 2012 by blacknright

United States political activist and former di...There have been recent attempts to increase the membership of Blacks in the GOP. In 2008, while others were talking about this historical election of Barack Hussein Obama, there was another Black man on the ballot, Alan Keyes. Alan Keyes had also run against Obama in the Illinois senatorial race  in 2006 but unfortunately for Illinois and America, Obama won. Had the GOP chosen to go with Alan Keyes, it would have been a different race entirely. In fact, the whole issue of race, as in the skin color of the candidates, would have been a non-issue since both candidates would have been Black men and therefore, the division that has ensued under Obama might have been at least partially curtailed.

 

speaking at CPAC in Washington D.C. on Februar...We also had Herman Cain run this year for the Presidency, again making the issue of race irrelevant had he won the nomination. And though we have far more information about his life than we do about Obama’s he was pushed aside because of a false allegation of sexual misconduct. Something that only works on Republicans, never Democrats because their whole sex life is nothing but sexual misconduct. Herman Cain is a self made man, the founder of Godfather’s Pizza. Despite, the unfounded allegations of a 13 year affair, Herman Cain has been married 44 years to the same woman.  Yet no amount of success in his personal or professional life was able to translate into an increase in Blacks flocking to the GOP.

 

Mia LoveEnter Mia Love. No disrespect to the above men, they are men of integrity and honor, but never send a man to do a woman’s job. If anyone can energize the GOP it is Mia Love.  Just like Palin before her she seems to have burst on the national stage and has given a voice to conservative women once again. However, this time it is a Black Mormon. As someone who joined the church in 1998, I have had experience explaining why I belong to a “racist” church like the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. It is not necessarily easy and more often than not I probably do more to hurt the image of our church than I do to help it. In any case, Mia Love seems able to navigate these waters with a lot more ease than I. Or any of her fellow Black Republican men. Even Allen West, with his vast military and political experience didn’t not seem to rouse the interest that Mia has. Granted, just like Condi Rice before her she has already been labeled a house n***er by those ever so tolerant Leftists.  But that just means the Democrats/Leftists are running scared and cannot deal with a woman who is self-reliant, professional and godly. Since her first allegiance is to Jesus Christ, that disturbs alot of people, especially those who advocate a sin-filled lifestyle in the Democratic Party. They have no understanding that the greatness that once permeated America is due, in fact, to our Founding Fathers following the teachings of Christ…and not all religion in general.

The Mormon aspect of Mitt’s candidacy has sent the bigots running around declaring that Monday evenings will be Family Home Evening henceforth and Monday night football will forever be banned if Mitt gets elected. Will Mia’s Mormonism have the same effect. I am thinking, probably not. Since Mitt is a White Man somehow his Mormonism is more threatening than Mia’s. A petite woman, you might think she is timid and meek but Mia Love proved during the Republican National Convention that underneath her almost deceiving appearance is a heart of a lioness!

The American Dream is our story. It is a story of human struggle, standing up and striving for more. It has been told for over 200 years with small steps and giant leaps; from a woman on a bus to a man with a dream [Someone is a Brad Paisley fan that line is directly from his song  “Welcome to the Future.” Italics mine. Here is the link to video if you want to see it yourself: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y0Yg9wjctRw] and the bravery of the greatest generation to the entrepreneurs of today.

Two People Fell in Love

Two People Fell in Love (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Okay so despite her lifting of Brad Paisley lyrics, which only goes to show either her or her speechwriter have excellent taste in music, Mia does seem to epitomize the American Dream and while the pundits are waxing on whether the American Dream is indeed dead, Mia has shown it is still alive and well and that hard work and education do pay off. How will that translate to Black voters for the GOP? Well that remains to be seen however, if we look to Palin as a indicator, it is very good chance that she will be able to bring in voters who might have  otherwise stayed at home Election Day. While Palin was not able to propel that into a White House victory, we are hoping that Mia bring the GOP back to its roots. Back to the days of Reconstruction when Black Republicans were the norm for Congress. Sometimes all it takes is a woman’s touch. 

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UCLA: My Past, My Future

Published August 21, 2012 by blacknright
A hoodie with the University of California, Lo...

A hoodie with the University of California, Los Angeles trademark. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In 1983, nearly three decades ago I walked into UCLA for the first time. I was a troubled youth or so they said. I walked in hurt, angry and betrayed. I didn’t belong here, Why was I here?

In 2011,  I sat down in front of a computer filling out my college application for the UC system.  I filled out everything and then it came time to select which campuses I wanted to submit my application. The box for UCLA just stared at me. Could I really mark that box? Did I have what it takes? I had vowed never to return to that place.  Could I forgive UCLA enough to submit my app? I took a deep breath and I clicked on the box for UCLA.  I also choose UCR.  It was done, there was no turning back. Would  UCLA accept me? Could we start a new chapter together? We would just have to see.

UCLA Entrance

In 1983,  I was just one among the lost. We spent our days smoking and going to school.  Yeah we were UCLA students and we could even use the school’s name to score discount movie tickets! We were the UCLA students no one knew about, hidden away from the rest of well respected campus. Occasionally,  we would walk among the Westwood crowd in complete anonymity. The other UCLA students and normal society completely oblivious that they were mixing with the crazy part of UCLA. We were 6 West NPI. There was another unit for crazy adolescents, like me, but their unit number escapes me now. We were the better of the two anyway. We were UCLA, symbolically speaking they were USC.

In 2012, I am waiting for a reply. Maybe they won’t take me. Maybe they found out about my UCLA “alumni” experience. I picture a group of people, exalted professors going over my application and declaring “We cannot accept her! She’s a nut!” During my application process I tried to broach the subject but just could not find a way to do so.  Besides, it is probably better to leave that out. It is taking forever. Why haven’t I heard back?  It is my last semester at LACC. I am ready to leave. No, I want to stay. I am just hitting my stride here. I feel at home but I need to go. I need to move on. Still no word from UCLA.

In 1983,  I had no problem getting in. My therapist, a failure in the psych world, determined that helping me was beyond his capabilities and that I should be locked away. He would see about either placing me in a foster home or sending me to a psych ward at UCLA. Time passed and no word.  About nine days after my 13th birthday a call from him came in-the verdict was in-I was going to UCLA! It had been weeks! I thought I was free and clear (no pun intended). I thought I would be able to stay at home. I didn’t need to be in that place. I wasn’t crazy!

In 2012, I hear back from UCLA. There is a letter from them in my email box. I brace myself for disappointing news. I am terrified but I read the letter-CONGRATULATIONS splashes across the screen! I got in and into Poli Sci, no less. It is an impacted major and I was sure I was not going to get in! It must be a mistake. How is that possible?  I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. To receive yet another letter online or maybe in the mail stating, “Sorry Dena, we accepted you by accident.” No such letter ever arrives. I am in! I am an UCLA student! There is pride in saying that now. I don’t have to hang my head in shame.  I am a scholar! I am an Honor student. I still have difficulty wrapping my head around that concept.  They want me! I am going to UCLA! An echo from my past repeats those words again, I am going to UCLA. The first time I heard those words, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was dejected, filled with resentment and anger.  Yet now those very same words filled me with joy and anticipation. I had a sense of accomplishment. I had finally arrived!

In 1983, I spent time in the seclusion room. One time was for beating up a boy who called me a nigger, the other times-well, who remembers? The seclusion room was a rubber room where no one could hear you scream. I had also been restrained, taken down by grown men, given a PRN (that is a sedative for you laymen) and strapped to a bed with leather restraints. I had lost control when my therapist at UCLA told me that I would be going to a foster home after leaving UCLA instead of going home! What? That was the whole point of coming to this loony bin-so I wouldn’t be sent to a foster home! How could they now change the rules and send me to one anyway? I was livid. I tipped over a table and sent my therapist running out of the room for help. I had been lied to! I wasn’t going to let them get away with that!

The days in 6 West blend into one another. One day was no different than the next.  We would watch tv, play cards and dominoes and chain smoke. We were underage and were not supposed to be smoking but it was allowed anyway. I take up smoking as well, but only for a little bit. My brand was Marlboro Red. I do it to fit in. Smoking does not stick though. I give it up as easily as I started. The very last episode of M*A*S*H is coming on. I have to see that.

Janss_Steps,_UCLA

Janss_Steps,_UCLA (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In 2012, it is my orientation. I am nervous and excited. While still at LACC, a friend of mine and I strike  a deal. If we both get into UCLA, he will be my ride. On the day of the orientation, he gives me my first ride to UCLA.  I sat there in the auditorium going over the orientation.  A nagging voice keeps saying, “You don’t belong here.” I try to silence it. Another echo from my past surges forth and repeats those long forgotten words, “You don’t belong here.”  Back then the context was one of defiance and anger. It carried with it an aura of superiority. I was better than these other kids, druggies and crazies. I wasn’t like them. I didn’t belong here. The words were a reflection of my wounded pride.

Today the words had a much more sinister context, it was one of fear and inferiority. Was I really good enough to walk among these scholars? I was consumed with doubt. “You don’t belong here. You are going to fail. You will be found out! You are a fraud!” My thoughts are liars! They want to hold me back but I won’t let them. i will prove them wrong!

In 1983, I missed the last episode of M*A*S*H. I am disappointed but figure I would catch it on the re-run. What I did not know was that they would not re-run it for years. I had missed it.  M*A*S*H was not just a show. It was a connection to my mother. We would sit down every night and watch it together. No one else really watched it with us, it was our time. I would rub her feet and we would laugh. By missing the last episode, it was a like a premonition of things to come. It was like UCLA had taken away that connection to my mother, just as they taken her away physically from me. It was easier to blame UCLA and be angry at UCLA for another perceived sin than to admit my own choice of entertainment had caused me to miss it. The connection was broken because of me, but who needs the truth? I will just hate UCLA

In 2012, twenty nine years later I love UCLA.  In 1983, I was there because of someone else’s choice. Today, I am there because of my own. In 1983, UCLA took a part of my life.  In 2012, they are giving it back and then some.  They are taking that broken girl and restoring her, refining her, making her into a gem to be admired and respected. The Dena Leichnitz they knew as “troubled” is now a woman they have accepted as their own. Someone who will go out and a make a difference.

In 1983, I walked into UCLA for the first time. In 2012, I walk down UCLA’s halls of academia for the first time. Two worlds apart, two lifetimes apart but one school.  What a difference 29 years makes!

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