Journey to Empowerment by Maria D. Dowd Page B

women are oppressed in the same manner as women of color. She cited examples of discrimination, rejection and degradations to make her point. My immediate reaction was a defensive one that initially thwarted any attempts to facilitate discussion. My challenge was to convey how oppression is manifested differently. Fortunately, I recalled another wisdom-inspired moment that occurred while team-teaching a Cultural Diversity course with Dr. Oliva Espin. She put it best: “One cannot not have privilege.” We were then able to explore the idea that with privilege comes a responsibility to act in a way that uses it proactively and productively. Her words created a nice shift to empowering possibilities, rather than comparing oppressions.
    Whether we are in or outside of the classroom, we carry with us what we remember. What we remember and choose to share can make a difference in the lives of children, youths and young adults who are open and trusting of the process. Truly, when the students are ready, willing and able to find their rightful place in life-changing discourse, while acquiring wisdom along the way, every divinely appointed elder-teacher-learner will appear.

Call to Ritual
    B Y M ARIA D ENISE D OWD
    I t’s been a long day, my Sweetness. Let’s connect—although it’s late—for a moment, perhaps over a shared jumbo mug of mint tea infused with raw honey, Honey. We’ll talk through the steam and share glimpses of our day past and our plans for tomorrow and the day after.
    Maybe we’ll split a sweet orange, ripped from its skin and handed from my lips to yours. We’ll savor the citrusy zest that tingles our mouths wanting more.
    Shall we soak in a warm bath scented with ginger or jasmine or lavender? And fill the room with candles and the kind of music we love to love by and by? In short order, the multisensory-surround-us-with-gentle-taps pulsate the epicenter of our blended hearts. This time, you’ll rest against me as I massage your scalp, and tug at your earlobes and remind you of all the things you already know about yourself and us—my king, your queen, our kingdom. Playfully, you splash water—properly anointed—on my cinnamonness and we watch it bead onto your chocolateness, then into a pool of bliss. What a luscious thing we have.
    Perhaps…just for fun, you’ll shave my legs. You know how antsy I get about stubble. You’ll glide your thumb along the inside curve of my slender foot and I’ll wiggle my copper-painted toes because your kisses tickle so.
    Our home is a bit chilly on this night, so we’ll bustle our buttered nakedness into our bed, and like an army of veteran soldiers…left…left…left right left…our limbs intertwine in perfect formation. Who will light these candles? I’ll defer to you, because you can take the heat of the cold better than me. But I’ll keep your side warm, and witness the first cast of glow against my curves and your straight lines. You’ll return to a waiting, wanting me…and we’ll caress our Divinity.
    I’m no longer chilly because we feel our skin to skin because we love the skin we’re in and how our skins blend…infinitely. Oh, what a blessing you are to me…and me to you.
    Good night…or perhaps good morning by now.

Shall We, My Sweet?
    B Y K ALI A SHTAR
    Shall we, My Sweet?
    Yeah, go ’head…
    Yeah, go ’head…
    Enjoy the decadent, dark and gooey.
    Make me wanna go…ummmmm…Uh hum.
    Yummy for my Honey Tummy.
    My-eye King of thee Supreme Elixir…
    Me, you, our lickety treats…Oh, yeah…
    Just wanna sink my tongue into…
    And whhhhirl until my honey tummy aches…
    For your morning you.
    Oh…jeez…my tasty treat.
    Banquet for a Goddess…
    Feast for a Warrior Priest.
    A Fete…grandly, lusciously fashioned. Your syrup oh, so thick…and delicious. All up in my pores,
    All up in my/your