movingforwardwithyinka

Encouraging self-written love letters while waiting to be a Mother

/ Yinka (Anthonia) Gansallo-Lawrence / 6 Comments

One of the most encouraging yet doubtful words anyone can tell a woman who loves children and is yet to be a mother, or having difficulty with keeping her pregnancy to full term due to whatever medical reason. . . is “Oh, God has placed you as their mother on purpose.”

 

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Hmmm . . . well said with good intention, but undesirable for a heavy heart that’s bleeding.

I totally understand this might be a difficult truth to handle for some women, especially when a woman is childless not by choice. Mother’s Day can be a painful reminder of profound loss. For some it is miscarriage, for others it is infertility, and then there is also an affect called circumstances beyond their control.

Today, I am hoping we can encourage every woman still waiting to be a mother, to be called momma or be celebrated every Mother’s Day through self-written love letters that soothes, while also bolstering the joy of motherhood with them. 

Yeah, every single one of them.

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So, in the early Spring of 1999, we had just moved into a new apartment, two blocks away from Community College of Philadelphia, Spring Garden area. It was the perfect spot with the best view of The Art Museum. My job as the head teller at the community bank was fulfilling and just down the road, precisely Logan square in the bubbling heart of Center City Philly, which made my bike commute to work so easy and smooth. 

Life was simple and beautiful indeed.

One day, we had a guest who came in from New York to sit for her medical board exam, she was an old classmate from secondary school (FGGC Sagamu), a very intelligent lady. She was the first guest we entertained in our new IKEA ed-up digs! Just two minutes into our catching up on girly gists about our old party days in Lagos, my husband joined us in the kitchen as our guest abruptly exclaimed… ‘You are Pregnant Yinka’ 

Oh okay… Just like that? how? I didn’t even know I was? She continued to talk fast, as she checked my eyes, my pulse, my tongue and we all burst into one of the best heartfelt laughter. My childhood medical doctor friend, myself and my husband were elated at the good news-diagnosis inside my kitchen.

Fast forward to May of the same year, I lost that pregnancy. Drowned in a pool of my own blood, confused, I ignorantly and unconsciously drove myself to UPenn ER, clutching my tummy and expecting a miracle right there, while breaking all the traffic light codes like a crazy woman detached from reality, then called my husband to join me as he was also working in the same hospital. 

It was one of the most horrific Mother’s Day and birthday season of my life. In my grief I wrote a love letter to myself as an outlet for compassion, addressing my womb’s dilemma while also sending it on an errand to get it right the next time, and never play games with me again… today I’m overpowered with emotion, after recovering that same love letter written in pain over twenty years ago…even as I am still wrestling with the fact that the grief I experienced is still a daily challenge for other women today…

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How many women have we reached out to today, who are still struggling with the acclaimed banner of today’s celebration? those struggling with the tabloid that brings yearly memories of hurt and detachment? those with dreams pampered but now a lost opportunity to be called momma or be celebrated for 5-mins? 

May be its time we begin to teach our little girls that not only does their womb serve as the human habitat, but also: (1) The greatest power a woman possesses, (2) Their ability to establish, create or conceive on all levels (3) That there is an aspect of womanhood they need to know that is not represented by our past indigenous culture (4) Which was the absence of a platform that’s geared towards preparing our little girls’ mindset about timing (5) That this same powerful and beautiful aspect of creation can also be tapped in the birth of projects, careers, personal healing, spirituality, and relationships.

And in relationships… 

Maybe it is time we begin to: (1) Openly address one of the most common causes of strained relationships or marriages as infertility or subfertility. (2) That there is usually a cause for concern if a woman finds it difficult to conceive after two years of marriage. (3) Most people do not wait that long before seeking for help. (4) The longer it goes on the greater the pressure from both families who are desperate to see grandchildren. (5) It could be quite distressing.

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We know that the problem could either come from the woman or the man. There are many reasons why this can occur. It could be genetic or due to medical problems affecting either or both of them. It could probably be due to a spiritual affliction emanating from several sources.

Those self-love written letters to myself over twenty-years ago have helped me heal and be able to effortlessly advocate for maternal mental health, connect with other women in waiting or women in maternal distress and women detached from the reality of handling the fear of conceiving and losing it again.

Those love letters were written again after encountering two more miscarriages and have proven beneficial in my journey towards giving hope to others by encouraging self-written love letters, and also writing to others, especially during any season of grief.

Can you imagine finding joy and hope in reading someone’s unexpected handwritten words to you? maybe we should consider how we can add this ancient form of communication back into our daily lives, while helping others too.

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But guess what! starting today, we can begin drafting those self-love letters, while we are also assured nothing happens by accident on God’s watch, especially in a way only He can accomplish. We are bound to experience both free will and His grace together in this life. Even before it is fully matured, our faith will help us follow His lead as we raise every un-born or adopted child in His light. 

May the joy of motherhood be experienced, may miracle shine a beautiful light on this truth, because the passage of time does not prevent the promise of God from coming to pass. God gives children to the barren. Psalm 113:9, “He maketh the barren woman to keep house, and to be a joyful mother of children.

Yours in Hope as I share BLESSED by KiDi ft. Mavado

Yinka – Licensed Child and Family Psychologist, Michigan Endorsed Infant/Maternal Mental Health

Understanding a child’s temperament: Autism Awareness

/ Yinka (Anthonia) Gansallo-Lawrence / 12 Comments

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It is April, World Autism Awareness Month.

Let me begin by applauding all the great parents out there still committed and dedicated to helping with easing the acceptance of a given diagnosis, while following through with the prescribed-treatment plan for every child living with autism. I celebrate you! You did well! You are doing great!

Today, please take a 5-minute break, to look back at where you all started from, put on a happy expression, beam with gratitude or a smirk of “Just WOW” that displays your boldness, inspiring enough to tell stories of initial personal struggles, but later turned into a million little miracles of developmental victories, as you continue to surge forward in hope, for the future of your children. Remember, you are never alone.

Here I am speaking to you as a mother who has also experienced a child’s diagnosis+treatment on the home front, while my super hero cape is on and active as a licensed clinician of 20 years on the field, trust me when I say… ‘I DO understand what it is to journey through that road called… “Perhaps”

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Every child is born with his or her own individual way of approaching the world. I personally believe ‘Temperament’ stands out most as one of the unique qualities. Some will argue that, providing healthy and consistent validation on the part of the parents can help to instill a sense of worth and value in their child’s temperament as being seen and heard. While others believe that it is only critical to elevate the child’s emotional development through positive socialization, and development of a self-identity.

Hmm. To validate those emotions or not-to validate?

It is either a child’s temperament is easy-going, slow-to-warm, and active based on their environment.

Because childhood invalidation is thought to be related to many mental health issues in adulthood including an increased risk for both borderline personality disorder and narcissistic personality disorder. While invalidation may or may not include overt verbal abuse, its effects are typically longstanding and often carried with that child into their adult relationships.

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There is No Right or Wrong Temperament.

It’s very important for children to be accepted for who they are. It is true, though, that some temperaments are easier to handle than others. A parent with an intense, reactive child or a child who is very shy and slow-to-warm-up will tell you that parenting these kids can be a challenge at times.  But, how can we learn when to tune in or acknowledge the child’s mood, while anticipating how they will react in certain situations without a display of their unique characteristic attitude or mood? hear this…

Temperament is not something your child chooses, neither is it something that you created. A child’s temperament shapes the way he/she experiences the world. A child who is cautious and needs time to feel comfortable in new situations and a child who jumps right in are likely to have very different experiences going to a crowded classmate’s birthday party. While the child who can handle a lot of sensory stimulation will experience a trip to the grocery store differently from a child who has a low threshold for a lot of surrounding noise and action. Same attitude, different reaction. 

And how do we respond (rather than react) to unexpected display of affection or outburst? aka: social tantrums or reported showdown by non-family members? Do we validate affectionately or otherwise?  hear this…

Maybe it is time we consider some characteristics that can describe a child’s temperament:

  • Emotional intensity – unstable moods, impulsive behavior and relationships
  • Activity level – the rate a child uses movement and physical skills to learn and explore
  • Frustration tolerance – dealing with setbacks (frustration or everyday inconveniences)
  • Reaction to new people – is this mutism or social phobia?
  • Reaction to change – some degree of discomfort without transitional plan

Child validation is the act of understanding and recognizing a child’s needs, feelings, thoughts, emotions, and non-verbal behavior as valid. It’s based on being able to empathize with a child’s trigger point and relate to their sensory-based reality or traumatic lived experiences.

On the other hand, invalidation is ignoring the child’s non-verbal attributes or when a child is made to believe that their needs, feelings, or lived emotional experiences does not matter. In other words, if conditioned in their childhood to believe that how they perceive their world is unreasonable or insignificant, these same messages can later generalize to feelings of insecurity, deep depression, issues in trusting themselves or others, and an unstable sense of self-identity.

Aha! here is my remedy: Be Your Child’s Champion! learn to follow their lead.

Have you ever found yourself feeling isolated from or being misunderstood, possibly even put down either by family, friends, and neighbors who disapprove of or judge your child? It can be empowering to see these situations as opportunities to educate others about your child. Step up!

For example, Abel is your son on the spectrum: you can explain to his aunt who is not getting the warm reaction expected from your child, “Abel, like a lot of other kids, needs time to adjust to new people or new environment.” You then hand her Abel’s preferred toy or favorite book, helping her learn to approach Abel slowly or change her diction to sensitively say …“It’s okay, I will just sit down next to you and wait while you are ready” “I see how you worked so hard building those blocks, maybe we can re-build together while you show/teach me” “Here, take my hands or show me how to help you”

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So, understanding your child’s temperament helps you be a better parent. Recognizing patterns in your child’s behavior that are easily triggered by temperament can help you anticipate your child’s responses to certain situations. If you know that your child has a hard time making transitions, you can learn to work on visual schedule planning or gentle prompt-reminder system to ease the process of change. 

Sharing and observing your child’s strengths helps others see your child’s behavior from a different perspective, especially when derogatory names like ‘feisty nature’ are thrown carelessly around your child, take a deep breath, smile and allow the motherly instinct inside of you swell with pride and say “Hmm, Bella knows who she is and what she wants. She is loving and she is fierce. She puts her whole heart into everything.” Done.

Ordinarilly you might not be able to always control your child’s temperament, but you sure can navigate the triggers others bring around your child. Remember, the goal is not to change your child, but to help with adapting coping strategies and encouraging positive strength building.

While the month of April is dedicated to autism awareness, for me, everyday I am passionately connected to providing coping strategies+treatment for kids, providing individual personalized parent training, advocating for the importance of early detection in infant/toddlers and sharing resources with families in taking positive action… 

Conclusively, I implore all parents and caretakers to make the necessary sacrifices in understanding that autism is not solely a psychological/psychiatric disorder… … relatively it is physiological (neurological and biochemical) – meaning that there are things you can do to improve your child’s health, learning, and behavior.

A little bit of everything works! some nutritional changes, Joint-family social emotional support, traditional therapies like Sensory play therapy, ABA, speech, occupational therapy, etc.  but more important, the priceless “Cheerleader Cape’ you wear with them, and for them as they… continue to thrive.

For more information or free resources on: Infant & Maternal Mental Health/Early Childhood Education & Intervention/Autism Spectrum Diagnosis and treatment planning/Social Emotional Disorder/Advocacy for IEP with school-age children and more, visit us on our non-profit website: http://www.developmentalcarenetwork.org

Yours in HOPE as I share Mr. C Dollarz – Autistic

Yinka.

IMH-E, Licensed Infant/Maternal Mental Health Psychologist.

The Fragrance of Memories: Yinka@50

/ Yinka (Anthonia) Gansallo-Lawrence / 26 Comments

From the rising sun on a wet Wednesday morning of May 10 in the year 1972, a baby girl was delivered into the Gansallo family house, at the famous Island Maternity Hospital on Lagos Island. Indeed, a wide-eyed cry announced my landing which foretold a bewildering future. 

The astonishing resemblance of my late paternal Great-Grandmother, Lady Sophia Mori-Lewa DaSilva was so noticeable, I was instantly nicknamed “Atupa Parlor” after her (meaning the bright lantern that brightens a room) or sometimes “Emi Mama l’oke” (grandma’s breath) usually indicating the strong enduring personality of her industrious nature and philanthropy.

Today as I turn 50, I am beyond words on how many descriptive adjectives I have left in me from Professor Alo’s semantics class at Uniport, which is so unlike me. But deep inside, I can feel this colossal triumphant jubilation going on, it’s like there’s a non-stop praise gig happening! And am being invited to celebrate.

So, sometimes in life we get the chance to start again, we breathe deep to stand tall. We are offered a choice to either deal with the hiccups life throws at us, live with it or leave it behind.

We prepare to make our way without knowing whether the future will wait for us to catch up on missed opportunities… or we just brave it, with our faith, with love by relying on our reflective light. 

For me, this is the morning that I’ve dreamed of. The anniversary of all the enchanting and whimsical events I have encountered! Jubilee of unbelievable but jaw dropping testimonies! Reminiscing on all the principled life skills and platform for spirituality my Mother has instilled in me, the importance of education and values of setting goals mentoring from the most astute man I know, my late father.

I am who You say I am. I am chosen. I am Loved.

My Gratitude Runs Deep.

And my journey begins, with steps so few, that a child could count them. 

A new dawn… forged by the force of life itself.

And if I have spent a lot of my life trying to understand why and how absurd things happen, trying to have boundaries, and then trying to enforce them. Well, I’m finally understanding that I don’t need to be loud or demanding to have healthy boundaries. I don’t need to determine how other people behave around me. I just need to pre-decide how I will react when other people behave otherwise.

Setting healthy boundaries means being clear about asserting one’s mental health capability, especially when you clock an important milestone.

And with my ongoing Project 50 and beyond to mark this milestone (www.project50andbeyond.com) I pray for wisdom and ask God to determine my thoughts, words and actions.

As this is just the beginning of a potpourri of untold stories in my memoir. . . ‘The Fragrance of Memories’

Yours in HOPE, as I share one of my favorite songs “Dependable God” by Victor Thompson.

Olayinka.

Gracefully ascending to my 5th floor on purpose

/ Yinka (Anthonia) Gansallo-Lawrence / 25 Comments

Our births are, and will always be one the most profound common-place of miracles. An event deeply remarkable and phenomenal. A timeless deed that immediately but intentionally and briefly makes angels of us all.

Then life evolves as we get older, we flicker on a screen of ‘how it could have been’ by folding and unfolding upon our mind’s eye which brittle like a crushed dove’s wings. We suddenly begin to accept that our health is also another gift from God, especially after overcoming a diagnosis, but we sometimes take it for granted.

Still, it hangs for its dear life on a thin-thread as fine as a spider’s web. While the smallest err can make it snap, leaving the strongest of us helpless in an instant, as the weaker hearts wobble. And in that instant, hope is our only protector, and love our cure-all.

Life is fueled by learning new things, encountering new people, or sometimes handling challenging paths. But there will always be laughter when joy sips in… ‘tears when disappointment emerge un-invited… making exaggerated but clearer revelation a must for us, as loss or gain of mutual affection we have forged in friendships over our lifetime would only last us all the remaining days on earth. 

#FromAgeToAge

While a child, I mastered the act of overriding discomfort with the thoughts of accepting everything washed away as a fresh potential dawned. Eventually, in every wave of change, there comes a new beginning. To embrace strengths, tackle weaknesses and keep dreaming.

My next floor is filled with flights that’s taken many forms by relying on God’grace. It seems unfurling like feathers… tickles and enchanting… a compose of soaring upward into light… a fresh gratifying department that runs deep… A retreat from the unknown and total disconnect from pain or unprofitable bonds towards a visible joy!

Aha, approaching 50 has enabled me not-to-feel the need to be understood, included or accepted regarding worldly expectations. It’s granted me more time to sit back and observe, as I realize that literally not everything life dishes out needs a reaction as I begin to trust my intuition more.

#NaYourWay

As we begin Year 2022… ‘What’s your next flight like? A bustling or empty enterprise? Is fear keeping you tethered.. terror clipping your wings? Hey, No shaking! Hope can still lighten the sky, while Love will continue to make us courageous!

And at the end of climbing those steps, what mattered most is not what the curious monitoring-world expects, or whether we blow, hide or fly… or even where our journey takes us in life.. but what guides us home… from age to age… ‘and-where-we-come-to-land! Because in the end, we all become memories.

There are many things about life in which you have no control. Accept those things as part of the way God created you. Your ability, race, culture, language, nationality, and many attributes of your physical being are God’s choices, for a purpose.

Counting down to… #Enchanted 5.0   #Project50andBeyond #JustWOW #MsGansy@50 #CancerFREEdeclarationOfGRACE

Yours in Hope, as I share NOSA’s ‘Na Your Way’

Yinka

A Shift in Perspective for 2020!

/ Yinka (Anthonia) Gansallo-Lawrence / 12 Comments

Let me start by sincerely asking… ‘How are you doing? Are You Okay?

For many people, 2020 has proved a challenging and tedious year. If 2020 taught us anything, it’s that resiliency always wins! For some, storms of illness, financial difficulty, social unrest and depression have overwhelmingly swept upon once-peaceful lives.

Quarantines and social distancing have prohibited many from joining with family and close friends for nearly a year, and as Year 2021 approaches that will likely still remain the case for many.

More than ever all the small things have become bigger.

We’ve gone to bed puzzled and perplexed at night, woken up with uncertainties of what could be… not knowing what the next day, week or month would bring.

From eating in a restaurant to seeing a movie, to physically being able to hug a friend, or embracing outrageous political differences with little space to vent, to just listening to each other’s heartbeat when anxiety sets in, unveiling heartaches when headlines deliver sour news, or proclaim happy-thoughts when sudden glimpse of hope comes with the morning dew! we no longer discount the small aspects of life that were once so accessible.

2020 has shifted us to recognize those small things, and the large impact they have: More time alone with our conscience!

What has more time spent alone taught you?

Are we still holding back on circumstantial boundaries? Do we see only difficulty in every trial we’ve encountered this year? or forge ahead like an optimist, see the opportunity in every difficulty?

How can we evaluate these things and come back to God with a grateful heart for such revelations or new ideas?

Hmmm… ‘This year has brought so many of us to our breaking and emerging points. Family bonds once trusted are now tested, trashed or tremendously treasured! friendship values once secured are re-evaluated for sincerity or lack of depth to fill the void and empitness we now face. Loss and pain have plagued every one of us in 2020, in moments both fraught and debilitating.

From sympathizing with friends, families and clients who’ve lost loved ones to giving mental health support and encouragement about the after effects and lifelong scars of losing a baby, a mother, a father, a brother, a sister, grandparents, all alone… in a-cold isolated pandemic period.. that literally steals the comfort of a warm embrace… ‘an unbearable grief, experienced by many but talked about by few but riddled with (unwarranted) shame, and perpetuating a cycle of solitary mourning.

We have comforted each other over virtual platforms as though we were there in person! burial rites are performed in a swift due to gathering restrictions, saving the tears to swell up behind face marks or allowing some to run freely on our screens, behind the walls of isolation.

Some of us were bold enough to celebrate milestones, weddings, birthdays or graduations in very restrictive gathering! Some, grateful for an opportunity to start afresh, rebuild broken relationships or mingle again without knowing it would probably be their last in October… #RIPMrsPatriciaEwetuya-Daramola.

A shift in perspective can take us from complacency to content.

Uncertainty can be powerfully intimidating, yet we must make decisions.

Perspective is key in finding joy despite the circumstances this season.

So, like my 9-year-old daughter would explain after going through her scheduled social stories without wearing her prescription glasses, “My perspective on events is much like wearing a pair of glasses. Certain lens will help me see the blur of fear, unknown things approaching or confusion, where another lens can provide me with much needed clarity”

More quality time spent with my 3 kids and Husband of 23-years in 2020 has taught us all Calmness & Clarity.

The perspective that some of the difficulties we face now perhaps are growing us in new and exciting ways. As scary as they look now, we have no idea what kind of good God is spinning out of it.

So, as we approach Year 2021, ditching all the uproar of 2020 behind, it can be easy to feel hopeless, anxious, or even bitter, however we can choose to not fall prey to these feelings.

We can partner with God to give thanks, despite the circumstances… and continue to look up to Him!

This past holiday probably looked different around the dining room table, but connection can still occur. Video chats and phone calls will be a resource to utilize well, but real connection can still occur from such unlikely platforms.

Perhaps gratitude can be found in using these options, and we can have authentic communications of where we all are in heart and mind. This is something to be thankful for, to have exchanges beyond the weather or superficialities, but to dive deeper into outlooks, our state of mental health!

We are all struggling, but we are not struggling alone. Because there is Hope.

Again, whether you find yourself celebrating or grieving these days, feeling hopeful or hopeless, actively choose to trust God to set you free of past battles. For His ways will surely prevail in the end.

We should not discount the faith He is building in us during this time either, for through these hard times He is revealing more of the character being born in us. Birth is painful, but it results in new life.

Perhaps these hardships are birthing a new vibrancy of life for us as we approach 2021.

Happy New Year, Stay Safe as we move forward into 2021.

Yours in HOPE as I share Whitney Houston’s ‘I LOOK TO YOU’

OlaYinka

May the coming months be merrier.

/ Yinka (Anthonia) Gansallo-Lawrence / 1 Comment

It started with a single picture. Then collection of old blurry birthday pictures all taken in May of 1991, 1992 & 1993. Some had the lustrous backdrop of the beautiful SB Bakare’s Mansion on Queensdrive Ikoyi, others the bustling Maxi Class restaurant on Olu Obasanjo at D-Line in Port Harcourt and some, inside the glossy emerald green walled-dinning room of my Lagos Island residence. Boxes of pictures I came across during early spring Covid19 Lockdown while decluttering my garage.

Oh, I could tell it was a festive period and my yearly impromptu birthday celebrations, as it had several young adults mostly dressed in jeans and colorful t-shirts, either on break from various Universities or recovering from the Jamb rejection letter and had gathered at my place on the Island or in Port Harcourt, at a chosen venue to celebrate my birthday.

My face lit up with joy, as I remembered the faces, then immediately was replaced with pain and sorrow.. amidst the depressing pandemic going on, I’d realized that several of the happy faces radiating warmth and youthful outbursts from the pictures were either so far away or just…No More. 

They’d passed away.

Good, Young, Cordial, Vibrant, Dear Friends: Gone! at their prime!

Even as their memories live on in the pile of pictures I carry with me, or with their immediate family members that were almost impossible to reconnect with, a feeling of despair resonated deeply within me!

How do I want to be remembered when I become just a memory in someone’s pile of picture collection?

How do we create memories? Will I be defined by my character on a good day? or be shamed by my weakness?

While happiness can be temporary, and so easily stolen by the circumstances in which we live in now, joy cannot be stolen; it can only be handed away. It is our decision to either live in joy or walk in constant disappointment.

I’ve always picked joy, sometimes it finds its way in the crowd to nominate me, I guess, ‘while been hopeful. How about you?

To fully wrap our heads around this precept, we must first understand the difference between happiness and joy. 

Happiness depends on outside circumstances. Joy, on the other hand, is an internal decision we make based on the conviction of things we believe will come about, but that our eyes have yet to behold.

Even as this rogue and ruthless virus has swiftly stolen so many pre-planned joy-filled events and people robbed us of very special occasions and memories we hoped to have. Disappointed doesn’t begin to describe what we were all feeling, but we shouldn’t give up.

But I’m sure you could relate your own story of loss which occurred within the first few months of this pandemic. Graduation ceremonies, weddings, birthdays and vacations were cancelled, sports championships were sidelined, jobs were lost, businesses failed, money vanished from retirement accounts. 

Relationships are rebranded! Sex life for married couples received an instant memo of resuscitations for detour! Marriages once on eggs shells are either cracked-up fried or nurtured by test of time!

Close to my heart, there’s an uproar and alarming rate of isolation for families with special needs children while healthcare disparity tightens hopes for families awaiting conception. I’ve had to counsel and give hope to those who’ve gone through miscarriages, a topic that has always been surrounded by silence and pain, while COVID-19 has made the experience feel even more isolating.

Aha, all these trials, those very ones which ruthlessly steal our joy, they can act as maturing agents in our lives, if we manage to hold onto our faith through them. 

So, even in the midst of it all, Is it still possible that one more brutality piled on, like so many before it was finally too much?

Is it possible that this is a turning point in understanding and addressing the ways in which racism eats away at an entire society while ravaging some far more than others?

Is it possible that the past week is the beginning of real change?

  • Photo by Miguel u00c1. Padriu00f1u00e1n on Pexels.com

 That, this is a struggle with a long history, but a struggle that must succeed.

Is this our new NORMAL?

Adaptability and Hope.

No matter where you are. No matter what you are facing. Step out in faith! May your next month, and the month after, and the one after be full of cheerfulness, gaiety and laughter; to cause or raise happiness and unspeakable joy.

In Memory of All We Lost Along The Way. . .

Yours in HOPE

OlaYinka

What is it about Black Men?

/ Yinka (Anthonia) Gansallo-Lawrence / Leave a comment

What is it about the black male? man or child that evokes an unexplainable aura especially in the mindset of white men; for as long as we can remember? Why does his presence stoke threat, fear and for lack of other words, envy? Why is he continually marginalized, discriminated against and blatantly hated?

I have delved deep and really find it difficult to understand in-as-much as I have heard, read and experienced the bitter truths of being a black man, I still struggle to accept the perception the average ignorant white person has of me and the first thing they perceive when they see me and behold the color of my skin. 

The “blackness” of my skin, the melanin that makes up my pigmentation is not akin to the darkness and light that evil and good are depicted by, neither is it inherent in the thoughts in my mind either way.

Just like every other race – black men have dreams, ideals, ambition, aspirations, intellect, wisdom and any other lofty attributes under the sun, and yes, just as white men have every other negative attributes that exist depending on the orientation of the individual and regardless of race or creed.

When we examine slavery and all its machinations, slaves were traded commodities that were put towards hard labor without pay. This arrangement warped the thinking of the black man for a long time as he was helpless, and at the mercy of the his owners.

We have come a long way since then, but with every discriminate newsflash of injustice on the black body we recede even further away from whatever progress we may have made.

What changed the narrative after the abolition of slavery?

Simple: The former commodities or work animals- realized they possess various latent qualities. They were not just “machines” to run plantations, they were living, breathing and vibrant human beings who had been ripped from their ancestral lands and everything they ever knew and held dear to their hearts. Liberation brought clarity. These “machines” possess much more than brute force, they could reason, they could organize and lead.

A great example of the ingenuity of African Americans post slavery is the Greenwood District in Tulsa Oklahoma also known as “Black Wall Street” where fine, bright and vibrant black men established a burgeoning financial district. Greenwood was sadly destroyed in one of the worst racial tragedies recorded in American history.

The Greenwood tragedy revealed that the black man had to be contained in such a manner that they were no more slaves but continued to be dominated in ways that they will never be fully emancipated. How is this achievable? Systemic racism is insidiously embedded within every system to protect the status quo. 

In a situation where black lives are snuffed out periodically and only make it to the mainstream when it is captured on tape then, what progress have we made from slavery through Jim Crowe to Civil Rights till the present day?

I have had to explain to my 14 year old son over the years why he should pull his hood down in public and why he needs to understand that when he is out in public not everyone sees him as my son whom his mother and I will give our lives for, and that he is presumed a potential threat to any white person depending on the circumstances and perspective of who is concerned. 

The average black boy has several serious responsibilities that his white counterparts do not even think about when they step out into the world. Many of them are already disadvantaged from their first cry even before the umbilical cord is snipped, they are already labelled.

He is taught to be ten steps ahead of the next white boy in all positive spheres of life if he has aspirations of being successful. He is told especially if he happens to be a big lad to be always cautious and courteous when expressing himself especially when white people are involved, in other words “curtail his God-given talents, perspective and true feelings”.

There is an aura and an inexplicable spirituality that surrounds a black man! it is not tangible, it is not taught and it cannot be bottled, it is innate and God-given and it cannot be hidden or ignored regardless of how hard you try.

The black man’s indelible mark is etched into history from great ancient African kings to fiery Afroamerican preachers and orators, in the world of sports and entertainment, to science and technology, this is the particular sector where our “hidden figures” abound and have been historically shrouded, their intellectual properties stolen and rebranded some of which will never be recovered. 

Again I ask, What is it about the Black Male?

He is just all round special and enigmatic, charismatic yet misunderstood stylish with a killer swag yet gentle enough if just given the opportunity to exhibit that attribute, but how are you able to show that when all you chronically experienced is hatred and dominance mostly from those that are supposed to have your back.

Your neck has had the collective knees of haters and envious white counterparts wedged into it for centuries some of them not even knowing it or understanding why as this has always been the norm. The average white person who feels superiority towards a black person could not even tell you exactly why or make any sense of their stance or beliefs. 

The black family fabric in America has been continuously decimated in a viscous cycle, fathers have been torn away from their families through the fledgling prison system business that the white man has continued to profit and build a billion dollar business on the sorrow, sweat, tears and blood of the black family.

Where do we start?

There is systemic disputes in every sphere of African American life, health, education, security, employment; all designed just to keep a “brother” down, to make sure that although slavery was abolished over a hundred years ago, the slaves emancipated on paper will not be liberated mentally or emotionally. The worst thing a “free” human being can live with is an imprisoned mind.

In all of this though, I am encouraged and very much hopeful with many of the young black men coming up in the world. The current generation of youth, black or white are a movement comprised of freethinkers, they do not generally need a leader and do not readily conform with the status quo.

They are ready to make their own reality if we like it or not, they will question every move we make and will break every rule, culture, tradition that may have been written in stone, they are not here to only rock the boat, they will look to risk everything, sink the boat and swim for the shore without us and our antiquated ways.

These young generation of black brothers are on a mission and we need to get out of their way or be crushed by the momentum. 

God’s Peace.

Written by,

Folarin Lawrence.

Essential Mrs. Gansy!

/ Yinka (Anthonia) Gansallo-Lawrence / Leave a comment

It is not often you come across a guy who has a whole lot of great things to say about his mother in law, but I beg to differ as I am one of the few.

Many years ago when I was courting my wife I visited her house on Lagos Island in the Popo Aguda Quarters, (Brazilian Quarters) she wasn’t home but her mother asked me to wait that she will soon be back. 

In retrospect, I still wonder what she saw in me at that time, that I was always welcomed to sit with her and just have great conversations on the front porch of their Brazilian style house while her husband was just in the living room behind us paying us no mind.

On this particular day after getting off the bus and taking the walk under the hot Lagos sun from City hall bus stop to #37 Oil Mill street, I met Mrs. as she is so fondly called, sitting on her front porch and after the usual pleasantries she asks one of the kids to get me a chair and some chilled water.

As we picked our topic for the day she also said she was just about to make some of her famous Delta state native soups that require very hard to find spices and vegetables and she was still trying to decide what would accompany the soup, yam flour or pounded yam? hmmm…

I said “whichever is fastest and most convenient” she decides on pounded yam and proceeds to start the preparation, all the while checking to see if her daughter was back and if I were okay seating on the porch. A little while later I could perceive the wonderful aroma of different spices, stock and smoked fish all sizzling and mingling together and sending my bowels through a tsunami of growls anticipating the taste in real time. 

I could also hear the thunderous sound of the pestle bashing the yams in the mortar and being an Ekiti man I was already rejoicing in my mind just imagining the mussels of pounded yam and sumptuous pieces of assorted meat and fish that will be paired in this meal fit for a king. 

Alas, the time came and I was called in by one the kids to come into the dining area, as I walked by the living room I could see Mr. Gansy (Her husband/Yinka’s Dad) as we secretly called him dissecting a mound on his plate paying me no mind whatsoever. 

I took my seat at the table and proceeded to deal with the meal, just as I was about to send the first soup covered mussel into my watering mouth, Mrs. walks in from the kitchen with a calm but direct demeanor and said in Yoruba; and I recal verbatim “I rarely pound yam for visitors,  but you carry a heavy weight on my hands”.

For what seemed like an eternity I didn’t know if to proceed or drop the fork in my hand. When I came to I replied “I will not forget this day”, because I already knew what I wanted and why I was waiting this long and getting offered pounded yam anyway. 

I enjoyed that meal and many more after that day and had even many more conversations with Mrs. Virginia Egogo Gansallo. She never mince words with me and corrected me with tough love whenever I erred and with time I came to realize that she treated everyone young or old the same way. 

Years after Yinka and I were married and we had our little issues here and there, she never took sides but made sure to let us understand that as long as we let peace prevail by being on the same page, making decisions together by always communicating mutually and most importantly putting God first then we can withstand any storm.

She is always the first to call to wish everyone well on birthdays complete with her very own rendition of the Happy Birthday song and also every other week just to check on you. 

There were times where I messed up, rather than chastise me she sat me down and talked some sense into me like any loving mother should and there were times she even took my side over Yinka. 

We would sit and talk about anything from current affairs to life in general, we also talked about deep spiritual issues and her insights were always very much enlightening. She talked about spiritual boldness, being prayerful and always standing in the gap for your family.

Mrs. always talks about creating memories and building a legacy by always being prepared in life and death. 

I pray that the Almighty will grant her years of great health that she may enjoy the fruits of her labor and always have the cause to celebrate and be celebrated. 

To all mothers out there and mothers in waiting we celebrate you today and always.

Happy Mother’s Day.

God’s Peace

KayLaw.

The Storms of “Staying-Home-Staying-Safe”

/ Yinka (Anthonia) Gansallo-Lawrence / 4 Comments

As we embrace the declaration to “Stay Home, Stay Safe” ‘are we aware that there’re those out there whose homes are ‘Far From Safe? ’emotionally, physically and otherwise? But then, it seems they have no-other-choice. . .

They are stuck in uncontrollable toxic or abusive homes, thanks to the current Covid-19 pandemic!

Is it just a mental-note of outburst at alert? ‘or there’s an obvious spike in the silent-cry out for mercy and help from various families, on the verge of collapse?

Those who are vulnerable and stuck at home where they don’t feel safe or free to be themselves? ‘like being locked in a cage with the very animal that torments them with no way out? 

Sadly, for many people in households across the world, their daily livelihood and busy schedules has been their saving escape zone, secret hiding place from the ever present crisis at home!

‘A reason to get up and away from the madness at home, the liberty to open the front door and get lost for hours in the distraction of business the outside world provides!

‘To get buried under the weight of office politics & multiple school projects! ‘joyfully dress up for team meetings! compile paperwork to sign at long IEP meetings! or watch kids skip happily away to the cafeteria and so much more. . .

‘For some, it’s the energy behind the commute and the power to change the world, the zeal to create something new – always outside their home! a short escape from walking on eggshells at home! ‘a break from the storm of undeniable emotional abuse within the home. . .

While for some families, it’s dropping off kids at daycare/schools so early and usually meeting at dinner table to briefly discuss boring cuts and bruises during gym class or calls from school about upcoming teacher conference as an already overworked Mother tries to maintain balance while a distracted or absent minded Father looks on but lost in the affairs of the events of who-knows-what!

The agitation of the memories that come with the ‘Abuse’ behind closed-doors, as a stressed-out mother and her children drive home in panic.

“What will tonight hold for my Children and I? ‘Another round of beatings? Sexual Abuse? Emotional Torture? Physical Attack? Spousal Intimidation? Disability Disparity? The burden and pain of an empty house, when the other partner walks away… 

“What mood will He be in today? ‘What mood will she and her young kids find her husband today as they walk into their home? Will he be drunk or angry? He’s lost his job again! Will the neighbors hear their cry and call the cops? 

“She’s crying as her 5 kids gather around her to comfort her, ‘I won’t let him hit you again momma’, I got you! He won’t hurt you again Momma, ‘I promise, says the eldest son, He’s only a 14 year old. And He has Down Syndrome.

Well, they must experience it more now! 

They must all walk into the house to keep away from the virus outside and face the virus inside… 

Abuse or being abusive might seem like harsh words. No one wants to have to admit they’re living in an abusive home or being an abusive person. But when there’s negativity, there’s abuse! We could become selfish and manipulate other people to get our way. 

That’s why it’s important that we come together and pray for these homes and the people in them.

Abuse is defined as to “use or treat in such a way as to cause damage or harm; to treat (a person or an animal) with cruelty or violence, especially regularly or repeatedly; speak in an insulting and offensive way to or about (someone).”

No one is immune to the virus of abuse. It’s only through God’s love that we can truly love one another and move forward!

Here’s How to Help Those Stuck in Abusive Homes…

Pray for Calm During this Storm!

The whole world is feeling an overload of anxiety and uncertainty, which causes people to be stressed. When certain people can’t control the world around them, they become angry, full of rage, and say or do things that harm those closest to them. Pray that God calms the hearts of the anxious and angry.

Pray for the Sanity of those in Homes that are not Peaceful or Emotionally Healthy.

For those who live in a home with an easily-angered person, there can be unrest, even when there is not rage. As the rest of the family waits and wonders if this is a calm day or a day they will see the rage.

 Pray for patience and endurance, with no safe place to go when the abuser starts raging. 

We are asking a lot of abuse victims right now to endure the abuse and/or rage, with no way to get out. Some victims at least get a break for work, or while their spouse works, but with most businesses closed, all family members may be home sharing the same space for 24 hours per day without a break.

Pray for those who are being financially abused.

Financial abuse is when one person in a committed relationship controls all the money and doesn’t equally share to provide for basic needs and the necessities of the family. This means, not only are people dealing with cruelty and abuse, they are told they can’t purchase what is needed or anything extra right now at a time when limited trips to the store for more supplies is beneficial to everyone’s health, and money may be tighter than normal.

Pray for the lonely because living with an abuser can be a lonely experience.

Life after separation or divorce is much less lonely, even without a partner, than living with someone you know doesn’t love or care about you. There is no intimacy (being known, loved, and safe) in a relationship with an abuser because of the fear that the victim is always doing something wrong and not worthy of the abuser’s love.

Ways to help an Abuse Victim (now and in the future)

  • Believe the victim.

Usually the abuser is confident and secure looking while the victim is confused, shaky, emotional (sometimes even angry), and uncertain if abuse is what they’re experiencing. Because a victim might fight back, or return evil for evil, expect that it may look like both parties are abusive. Sometimes, it only takes one person to make a relationship toxic. 

  • Listen without judgment or exception of leaving.

Experts say it takes seven times for a victim to attempt to leave before they leave for the final time. Validate their feelings (of course they’re going to feel that way) and allow them to process through what they’re experiencing. They know their abuser better than anyone else, trust them to know when they’ve had enough and are ready to leave for good.

  • Encourage victims to reach out for help.

Pray that someone points them in the right direction towards safety and security.

The National Domestic Violence Hotline:

Reach out for help.

While people are encouraged to stay at home, you may feel isolated from your friends and family. Even if you are isolated, try to maintain social connections online or over the phone, if it is safe to do so, and try to stick to your daily routines as much as possible.

For any victims and survivors who need support, we are here for you, 24/7. Call 1-800-799-7233 or 1-800-787-3224 for TTY, or if you’re unable to speak safely, you can log onto thehotline.org or text LOVEIS to 22522. 

Para información en español, visita la página “En Español.”

You are not alone.

Yours in HOPE

Yinka.

A Jolly ‘Good Friday’ Frejon and The Lagosian!

/ Yinka (Anthonia) Gansallo-Lawrence / 3 Comments

now serving!

Several years ago, on a typical ‘Good Friday’ celebration, in the comfort of my Parent’s baroque yellow & white Brazilian-quarter-bungalow, tucked away within the safe haven of Catholic Mission neighborhood, I would have gladly woken up to . . .

  • Clattering of deep oriental dishes arranged by color and floral patterns! Already carefully washed and wiped dried! I bet, with strict instructions from my Mom on how She’s managed to inherit and preserved them without any cracks!
  • Wooden gift baskets with folded napkins with individual family name tags, waiting on the dining table! In fact, I remember certain selected names over the years and smiles as I look forward to the delivery of the delicacy!
  • Wooden Raspado for coconuts (waiting to be cracked and scraped) The hardest part of cracking and scraping the juice from the coconut, I always managed to escape this part!
  • Black beans slow cooked over-time, over-night, large skillet pots, charcoal fire. Chopped onions, tomatoes & alligator peppers stewed with bay leaf.
  • Seasoned fresh red snapper fish, peppered cray fish, deep-fried shrimp, large blue crabs cleaned & marinated, now in relationship with each other!
  • Aroma of sautéed and stir-fried peppered snail directing traffic and confusion between Campbell & Broad street!
  • Tilapia fish, so settled and humbled in their new abode; grated garlic and ginger sauce!
  • Assorted seasonings like cloves and fresh thyme hanging around like foreign neighbors!

Oh no! IT IS FREJON DAY!

With all that’s going on around the world, I absolutely, almost forgot all those fun years until a childhood friend and my next door neighbor then (now lives in The UK)  sent me a text reminding me of how my Mom would constantly send “Those Frejon Baskets” to their family every Good Friday, and how much they’d loved it!  #ThanksAngie

Oh wow! Brought back….Good Old Memories!

Even though it was a cultural recipe passed down from my Paternal-Grandmother (The Coker’s- The DaSilva’s -The Gansallo’s) to my Mother.

Our family Frejon was usually made in large bulk and distributed out as gifts to family & friends every Good Friday!

The packaging is usually more exciting for me! The selection of dishes to use, how well the bean puree is carefully poured inside the deep oriental dish, separating the dish for the fish stew, peppered fish or separate side dish for Garri (cassava flakes) to sprinkle or side dish of peppered snail garnished with bayleaf.

As a child then, I usually just looked forward to the token (money) I get from delivery the frejon! In fact, as I got older, I became wiser and selective on which family house to drop off the ‘Frejon basket, so my tip was  bigger! Lol!

So. . .

Nothing excites a child more than seeing family members travel from far and wide just to gather on the ‘Island’ with Uncle Kayode (My late Dad) to eat Frejon, experience the great Easter Brazilian Fanti carnival! …’every April!

Nothing beats the memories of how much emphasis my mom made on the importance and value of the measurement of the beans pudding, the clove, the texture of the coconut milk when mixed to smoothness while cooking it in the paste! The aroma of grated ginger, garlic and other spices over seafood splashing and dancing in a sizzling frenzy in a big frying pan!

Fast Forward. . . Today! My Kids, The Generation Z! They don’t really care about the sizzling ginger or garlic over sautéed fish! Or why I have to feed the nation with black beans cooked so-long when I can easily pick up black-eyed beans from Taco Bell! Phew! ‘They don’t get it, right?

Amid social distancing and all that’s going on, Good Friday, hmmm.

I shall be ordering Bob Evans ‘Fish & Chips’ to celebrate with my Family – I don’t think these kids care so much about the texture of sautéed ginger snails and frejon! Maybe my grandkids…

‘I hope my Mom and my late Grandmas will understand!

Yours in HOPE,

Yinka.

Frejon (From Feijão, which is the Portuguese word for beans) is a coconut milk and bean soup which is eaten especially during Holy Week by a selection of Christians, mostly Catholics, across the world. Countries where Frejon is popular include Brazil and Nigeria (especially among Yoruba who returned to Nigeria from Brazil at the abolition of the slave trade, and settled in what is known as the “Brazilian Quarters” in Lagos Island), and also Sierra Leone on Good Friday, or for functions such as weddings.[1] Because dairy foods and flesh meat (beef, pork, goat) are strictly forbidden on Good Friday, this dish is a suitable accompaniment to non-dairy foods such as fried fish and peppered snail.


The New York Times Cooking