Strong women should not crush weaker women: How do you do it?

I use to have a job that had a lot of prestige. . a great title. . offered me a great opportunity. But the lady I worked for cared more about making a dollar than she did about the people who worked for her. She would give you feedback that was honest, but it cut like a knife.

I learned so much from that lady about running a business. . taking ownership of a product. . adhering to a scope. . providing quality work. . getting work done on time and under budget.

But when I left that company, I promised myself that I would not be a leader who crushes the women around her.

Fast forward to today:

Everyone who works with me knows that I'm all about the process:

- First you do this.
- Then you do this.
- Then you do this.
- You do it all on time and on budget.
- Then you report on how what you did made a difference.

THE END.

This was not the first time I made one of my co-workers cry. But this time hurt ME. This co-worker is a female, but she's not a Chicken Little. She comes in every day and works hard. She believes in how important it is to end hunger and poverty and empower women. She is my daughter. She is me awhile back. She's a woman doing her best in a world ruled by men.

And without trying, I became my previous employer. I was honest, but that was all. I crushed my co-worker. I SAW the tears.

I apologized. But I have to work on me.

I have a daughter that I raise to respect all people; especially other women.

How do you do it?

I've learned that strong women intimidate weaker women, and tears are the result. But I want to be the one that uplifts ALL women, so that we can all be strong.

How do you do it? I don't know. I continue to pray about this.

Some of my dumb Mistakes: Getting my child to act smart

I've gotten more feedback on the post "Getting My Child to Act as Smart as She Is" than I've ever gotten on a blog post.

I was a little relieved because I was grappling with a topic I felt was unique to my situation without a lot of support from others, and it was a little frustrating. . I'm feeling better about the situation - which, of course, continues - but wanted to build on my explanation of the issue by highlighting the root cause that ushered this whole problem into my life.

All of this did not come into my life just because I was that kid who tried to avoid getting tagged as a nerd for being smart. The major portion has to do with HOW I tried to elude this very unpopular label.

I grew up in a small town - Port Arthur, Texas. It has two claims to fame - Jimmy Johnson, ex football coach of the Dallas Cowboys; and UGK, gangster rappers. There was no city-wide spelling bee, academic conferences, organized mentorship groups.

Well, I guess Port Arthur has a 3rd claim, but it's more of a local thing. I'm pretty sure it had more crack cocaine dealers per square mile than any other small town city in the US. And the dealers were probably the most popular (and wealthy) people I knew.

So, I figured that the best way to excel in the popularity contest was to either become a drug dealer. {Which wasn't going to happen since my older sister at the time was a police office. Now, is a seasoned detective, BTW} Or, to date a drug dealer.

Now, here's where it becomes interesting.

Who would risk their freedom to date the baby sister of an over-protective cop? Well, yippee! I found one.

In the tenth grade I dated a high school dropout that had been selling drugs since he was 12. It was SO exciting! I would attend my talented and gifted classes during the day - or often not - and then hang up with "the element" after school. I never used drugs. I never sold drugs. But boy did my popularity soar at my high school. I was the Queen Ill Nana. Hah!

Well, all good things come to an end (Good - a word based on the perspective of a confused 16-18 year old). Here's how it all played out: I got pregnant. My boyfriend got locked up. Reality set in. "You're screwed, Dude."

I had to go through it! I had to. Fortunately, I had a praying and patient Momma who refused to see me fail and a God who covered me with his grace and mercy that wipes clean even the most awful sins.

Here's the upside of what I went through and what I'm now going to with my teenage daughter who BTW is not as far gone as I was in trying to avoid being labeled as The Smart Kid - I'm a praying and (sometimes) patient Momma AND God does not change, even as man does.

From the time my daughter was born, I got it. . and I changed. I don't believe it will take such a life-changing (and permanent) change in my daughter's life. God gives each of us exactly what we need. And somehow, he knew that I needed someone who depended on me to do the right thing and to get my life together. He saved my life. My daughter saved my life.

I tell my testimony not because I'm proud of some of the dumb stuff I've done. I tell my testimony because I know that there are others out there that are going through and they need to know that, even though it's hard and feels overwhelming, this too shall pass.

From Teenage Mother to Parenting a Teenager - Ooooh, Scary

Occasionally, me and my Mom would get into a disagreement that would make my mom so fed up that she would force a conclusion to the discussion by saying, "Wait 'till you have your own kids. You'll see."

As a kid, I felt like just getting that statement out of her meant that I had won the argument. Whatever she was saying that I did not agree with would be heard no more because I had forced a conclusion to the discussion. . But then there's the element of Kharma.

When I was 17, my mom's warning rang in my ears when my doctor told me I was pregnant with a baby girl. It was a very fleeting moment because I was too immature at the time to even recognize the song that began to play in the background as this story began. I was elated!

After all the griping my Mom did at me to go to school, to work hard, to show her respect, to LISTEN, I would show her! I would be an awesome (teenage) mother. I would never fuss. I would give my daughter all the space she needed. I would treat her like a princess. I would be her very best friend in the whole wide world.

Now, fast forward SIXTEEN years later to today. I find myself raising a kid that looks and acts JUST LIKE ME. I'm not old enough to have forgotten what I was going through at her age, but she won't believe me when I tell her that because as far as she's concerned, I'm old. . I have no clue what's going on because I was NEVER a teenager.

• [INSERT DAUGHTER'S NAME HERE], your bedtime is 10 pm, why are you up at midnight? RESPONSE: Mommy, you probably don't get this, but young people don't get sleepy at 10 pm. That's for old people!
• [INSERT DAUGHTER'S NAME HERE], your hair is beautiful. I do not want you to die your hair black. RESPONSE: Why are you trying to control me? I'm not like everyone else, Mommy. I want to be my own person.
• [INSERT DAUGHTER'S NAME HERE], if I don't know this friend, I do not feel comfortable allowing you to go over to their house or even having them spend the night in my home. RESPONSE: Mommy, you can't know ALL my friends. I have hundreds of friends.
• [INSERT DAUGHTER'S NAME HERE], I have no problem with you traveling. Just give me time to coordinate my schedule, so I can enjoy that time with you. RESPONSE: Mom, I don't need you crowding my space every time I step out of the house. I got this!
• [INSERT DAUGHTER'S NAME HERE], I promise that you will NOT die if you do not have those new jeans. RESPONSE: Mommy, you just don't understand!

Needless to say, my Mom's prediction was absolutely true. Sh e probably could not have predicted that my turmoil would be the result of becoming a teenage parent, but damn, did she have to be so right about everything else?

God, I wish I could apologize to her now for being a huge PIA, to tell her that I know now that she did understand, and to thank her for showing me true stick-with-it-ness in taking care of a rebellious teen because ALL of that knowledge is really handy right about now. It keeps this "old" mom sane; and reminds her that at some point, even if I'm not here to see it, there's an end to this sort of grief.