Le Debut

The only thing worse than me waiting forever to start this blog is the fact that, well, I started it, but I didn't actually start it. I got caught up in this sticky web of procrastination that got bigger and bigger the more I fed into it. First I didn't start because I couldn't think of a name that I liked. Then I held off a little longer because I didn't feel that I had anything to say. That's a load of crap. So then it morphed into, oh, I've got something to say, but I don't know quite how to say it. Then I thought, why am I stressing, who's going to actually read this thing anyway? Well, my procrastination is finally over. Audience or no audience...I'm talking.


I suppose the best way to start anything is to let people get a feel of where I'm coming from. I could say that I'm a black girl born outside of Atlanta and raised in Detroit. Match that with my name, Timeka, and you've got the seed of a fully blossoming ivy with leaves and leaves of assumptions whose venom has the power to taint everything I write from now on. Or I could say that I'm a Christian. I don't have a denomination. I pride myself on having a personal relationship with God and not a monotonous religion that I practice on Sundays to make me feel better about the crap I pull Monday through Saturday. If you think you've summed me up already, I'm afraid there's more. I graduated from an all girls catholic high school. And when my friends were partying well into the morning after senior prom I had to be sure to get home in time to catch the bus at 5am the next morning to the National Catholic Forensics Tournament. My dad has been a pastor for the past 15 years. I'm the middle child; the only girl. And there have been points in my life when I've actually wanted to be: one of the Olsen Twins, Ginger Spice, and Cher Horowitz (the main character of hit film and television series "Clueless"). Now you can peg me. Not that easy it. I'm pretty sure that even if you did come up with a clever box to put me in...you'd soon realize that somehow, I just didn't fit. I know it's confusing. Hell, I confuse myself sometimes.

Some of the boxes I've been pushed into were comfortable for me. I felt like I fit. So I stayed. There was that pre-teen snob who tells herself and everyone else that she's better than them, but secretly compares herself to Cosmo Girl characters. Then there was that box for girls too "blessed" for their own good. I played the role for my parents, but when it came to the boys, I let my double d's do the talking and collected numbers just for the hell of it. Okay, I may be being a little harsh on myself there. Then there was that box that I practically jumped into head first and tucked myself in nice and neat. The "woe is me" depression box. That was a good place to hide.

So I'm sure I've gone on for far too long and I guess I should reach an actual point. I'll post something new at least once a week and I'll make every post as real, relational, and rousing as I can. The title La Voix Femme (literally meaning, the woman's voice) comes from a similar title of a speech written by a phenomenal woman who was an abolitionist, suffragist, and awesome motivation to anyone who takes the time to study her. Aint I A Woman is a speech Sister Sojourner Truth delivered at a women's rights convention in Akron, Ohio in 1851. She told of the contrasts between herself and that which men (white men that is) consider to be a woman. There are many contrasts, she explained, but she is still a woman.

Throughout the journey that I take in this blog, I promise there will be contrasts. There will be things that just don't add up. There will be unexpected twists and turns and predictable pathways. In any case, I'm still a woman. I'm still a child of God. I'm still a sista. And yes, I still listen to my Spice Girls album occassionally. Ain't mine a voice worth hearing?