Our Village

It takes a village to raise a child, right? Well, we need to kick some people out this mug.

These girls I spent my Wed-Sun with... I don't know who's worse. The clique-y "Mean Girl" white chics who walked up and down in uggs and put their hair in messy top ponytails in unison or the ghetto cheerleader black girls who STAYED with an attitude!!! OMG! WHO IS RAISING OUR CHILDREN!?!?!?

I can't even begin to go on about our girls. They are growing up MEAN. They are growing up with a sense of entitlement. They are growing up angry.

But then I look at who their chaperones/teachers are. The one I was with loudly proclaimed, "I fight! I don't care who you are! I fight men, women and children!" So when TaQuandranikra accidentally bumps into Lilshawanda (her mom's name is wanda and her dad is shawn) and the yelling, finger waving, neck rolling, arms flailing starts, I now understand.

You know how in Mean.Girls, the mom wants soooooooooooooooooooooo bad to be one of the girls? You have no idea how true to life that is. These white women were bending over backwards making sure their little princesses were happy. So when the conductor walks by and Becca and her Crew (them hoes travel in packs for real. wolves have nothing on them) have their hands on their non existent hips DEMANDING to know why THEIR train isn't moving and they have a RIGHT to know right NOW, it's cause they're used to getting EVERYTHING they want when they want it.

Being on this trip made me soooo appreciative of my class and my school. I couldn't be in Boca.Raton with the Wolf Pack and their mothers. Nor could I be in Mangonia with Gabby Union and her crew.

In honor of the marches that were going on while we were in DC, I don't think we should abort the babies, let's abort the women raising them.