The Journey of Monica Rae Houston/Carr

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This was an amazing journey into the past. Sometimes we want to forget the negative things that have happened; disregard them as if they never happened. The powerful lesson of the past is to revisit it, feel and admit what affects it may have caused you and finally move on. This is the first time that my role as a wife and mother wasn't the defining point of who I am...I have really grown!

The Journey of Monica Rae Houston/Carr

Personal, Family, Community Culture

Gender

At this place in, "My Journey," the Good Outweighs the Bad

I must say in light of recent tragedies that have birth the movement of, "Black Lives Matter" I am put to the test of whether or not all of these written words upon this page are really true as they resurface once again giving another generation a chance to respond differently

Black Woman Educators who helped me realize who I was first and then to be able to recognize the Power of Women of every culture and creed

Strong women in the church who mentored and nurtured me

Single Moms who took care of their families and homes

Strong black women in my life, my grandmothers and aunts

At the wonderful age of 58, I see things anew, through my spiritual choice of Christianity, no longer by force but by love. The silencing of the voices that once seemed so loud have become whispers with hardly no sound. The wonderful reminder of my children who live differently, see differently, walk differently creating a brand new world for my grandchildren, all 6 of them. I have great hope and confidence that it will truly get better each generation at a time.

As I grew my world became full of people only like me, so it limited the world I once knew, making my selections and choices look only like me

As a young child my playmates were all colors, sizes and shapes, different backgrounds, homes and experiences

Limited expectations, dreams and desires

voices from the past of relatives who experienced injustice, fears and pain always tried to interrupt my decisions to chose and think differently

Belief System, Religion, Spirituality

Forgiveness & Love are power tools that I have chosen to personify

My belief system completely makes me who I am

Christian by profession and lifestyle

faith system nurtured and sometimes forced by elder family members

Socio-Economic Status/Class

So many memories of what once was

today the street name is there but the remembrance of us, gone

pockets of blackness, surrounded by whites

So culturally rich with family, community and love

surrounded by a community of family, great grand parents, grandparents, great aunts/uncles, uncles and aunts, cousins and friends

born in Catonsville, MD on a little street called Jones Avenue

Race/Ethnicity

taking a picture with my sister and being told by a black photographer, you must have been the house nigger and your sister the field nigger

the mistreatment by family and friends based on how light or dark

being escorted into the Lakeland recreation center by police officers to ensure our safety basket

waiting at the bus stop being called the "n" word and rocks thrown at me

given instructions of when things became dangerous to run out of the back school doors to home for safety

arriving at junior high school, being greeted with angry white parents with shot guns aimed out of their car windows at us

getting injured on my softball team to the point I couldn't walk and nobody helping me or offering me a ride home, which was a distance away. That pain hurt more than the physical. Every step I made was excruciating.

being the first and only black in my softball league

being forced to leave my integrated group of friends to be so called introduced to "integration.' where everything around me turned black

moving into a neighborhood that was all white and quickly watching the neighborhood and school turn black

attending a meeting with my younger sister's teacher, discussing how she refused to be black

my cousin being afraid of a black doll baby

a classmate in first grade ask me if I came from a black and white cow

Some of my recollections about ethnicity and race