Too Short Is Too Outrageous in Advising Little Boys to Commit Sexual Assault

http://mybrownbaby.com/2012/02/in-an-outrageous-advise-video-too-short-advises-middle-school-boys-to-commit-sexual-assault/

By NICK CHILES

Outrage doesn’t begin to describe my reaction to the “advice” column by Too Short on the website of the hip hop magazine XXL. In the ridiculous video feature, the aging rapper basically advises middle school boys to commit sexual assault to hasten their relationships with their female schoolmates. The most astounding thing about this column, beyond the fact that somebody thought it was a good idea to select the notoriously raunchy rapper to give advice to anybody, was that the editors of XXL actually put it on their website and sent it out into the world.

As the father of a middle school girl (and a second one who is just two years away), I was so enraged and disgusted when I read the text of his XXL video that I wanted to run to their corporate offices and create a huge bonfire of XXL magazines in the lobby. I know if some little boy ever put a hand on my daughter and they found evidence of this video anywhere within sniffing distance of his dumb behind, XXL would need a building full of attorneys to fight all the lawsuits I would send their way.

I Made A Baby With the Devil: A Black Mom’s Story of Parenting and Domestic Abuse

http://mybrownbaby.com/2011/08/black-women-and-domestic-violence-during-pregnancy/

By MICHELLE BOND

Many years ago, I met a man who seemed normal, but was actually the devil. Well, not literally the devil.  He was more like the guy the devil would turn to when he needed to be amused or inspired. This escaped me when we met and I fell in love with him. I thought, “Yes! This is who I wish to create a child with.”

I should have seen the red flags—there were plenty. I can see them clearly now, but the thing about red flags is that they wave quietly, like a soft whisper. Red flags should come with loud horns or a Justin Bieber CD—you know, something that makes the soul shudder and ache.  But no, they just wave back and forth like a gentle tropical breeze, caressing the illusion of happy and cloaking poor judgment.

When I was pregnant, my son’s DNA provider promised me that he would stop being verbally and physically abusive. I should have known he was lying when he also promised me world peace and a moon-walking Unicorn. Domestic abusers don’t stop the violence because their women are pregnant—in all-too-many cases, they increase it. But I believed every word he said. It was easier to believe and accept this fantasy instead of facing the life I had created for myself.