#begoodtoeachother

A little reminder for you that everyone has a power to say anything about you it's either bad or good, they will be hard to you but let me tell you this; You are strong, you are beautiful and you are valuable.

Keep shining star!🤗

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A few words on Mariah…

You ever wake in a slather from that dream where you’re roaming the halls of your high school in nothing but your undies? Well, from what I can tell, Mariah Carey just lived down a harsh variation of that nocturnal hell. But she was wide awake. In front of millions of people. All over the freeking world.

We all gave a nervous laugh when it happened. That’s understandable. But what I don’t understand—and don’t ever want to understand, honestly—is what followed.

I watched as friends and acquaintances—including fellow-performers—took to the interwebs and the socials… and BLASTED the poor girl. From general mocking and ragging to detailed technical analysis, a whole heck of a lot of people—folks I know—turned to assumption and ridicule regarding an unfortunate situation most knew squat about. It’s almost a week later and they are STILL trashing her on social media with memes, comics, etc.

Even if we’re only having a little fun, why do we think so much of our need for entertainment but think so little of the dignity of others?

My dearly departed mentor and friend, Dr. Charles Trevethan, taught me a great deal about how we treat others. He used to talk with his sociology classes about the blessing of “Practiced Non-Observance.” I won’t bore you with a college lecture but it’s basically the practice of intentionally pulling our punches—willing ourselves to forgo the chance to kick someone while they’re down.

Man, do I wish we would all jump on that wagon.

How marvelous would it be to exist in a world where we gave the same measure of grace we so desperately long to get? Where our frantic-nightmare-hallway-underwear run ends with a classmate throwing us a coat instead of snapping pics on their iPhone for the Instas? I don’t know about you but I'd like to see the troll culture die ugly... and soon. I'd like to see an end to the prissy little culture mavens who've told us this is the new normal--beating the mess out of each other when the chips are down. I don’t think this is what’s intended when we champion free speech or “having a voice.” My right to have my say shouldn’t ever divorce me from my obligation to weigh my words and their social consequences—to consider whether my untethered emotions will possibly do damage to others. Reason is only meant to temper passion but temper it still must. Call me crazy, but I believe that there’s nothing in your head or your heart or your circumstances that hurts so badly or stings so much that it warrants taking things out on someone who didn’t do a damn thing to you but have a rough moment while you happened to be looking.

Now, I recognize that most feel there are times when someone might deserve payback, karma, or whatever you care to call it. And you’ll respond that sometimes the harsh treatment is warranted. But is it? Even if that person were hell on toast in the personality department do they deserve lambast? Does their gaff warrant round after round of public immolation?

No. Not at all.

Then why does it happen?

And why the heck would a performer ever do or say those things to or about another performer… EVER??? When we know how hard it is? And especially when the “target” is as amazingly talented and accomplished as she’s proven to be FOR DECADES now?

And yet I’ve watched fellow performers—even fellow believers—do that to Mariah this week. I didn't join in this time but, to my shame, I've been party to that kind of treatment in the past.

That ends here and now.

My mom once cried during an impromptu “house concert” I was giving for some of my parents’ friends. I was in my second sophomore year in college (yes, folks… there were several sophomore AND junior years for this knucklehead), and I hadn’t spent much time on stage up to that point. That night I thought hers were tears of pride but they were something different, something more. She later told me she worried that I made myself so vulnerable so often for so many. She recognized the danger that comes when you wear your heart on your sleeve every time you pick up a guitar or take to the microphone in front of others. And unless you’re completely phoning it in when you play or sing or act or dance in front of an audience, you’ve experienced some degree of that vulnerability.

Kinda like walking the halls of school in your underwear.

We take to the stage ass-out, full-tilt… and vulnerable. On our best day, we weather the scrutiny of the masses, the media, and anyone who gets the bright idea they should take to Twitter and do a little bashing from the cheap seats. On tough days—when we lay an egg in the middle of a song or forget lyrics/lines or get the full-on Mariah treatment—those critics eat us alive. Their words are often as flippant as they are uniformed… but they still blister and bruise and break.

I keep watching the socials as good people who I know and love and respect as performers dish out the same harsh treatment as the couch quarterbacks and hacks… when they could have taken a couple minutes and employed that social media vehicle toward a beautiful blessing in a life that coulda really used it at the time.

Why the heck do we eat our own? And when the hell is it going to stop? I hear so many people these days talking about how fierce they are, how strong, how brave. But the world doesn’t need our fierceness. And if we truly were as strong and as brave as we claim, then I wouldn’t be writing this now. I wouldn’t be coming to the defense of someone who had a really bad day in front of the whole world. I wouldn’t have to because you’d already be out front, stepping between the momentarily unfortunate and their tough situation with your coat already off and your arm reached out in blessing. You see, real strength doesn’t crave its own demonstration; it isn’t proven through shedding the blood of the weak and the unfortunate.

Bravery is not defined in cheap shots.

True power stoops to conquer. Real strength protects and defends.

Let’s remember that, kiddos. And, as trite as it sounds, let’s try being the change we long to see in the world. I believe a better way is possible and I ain’t quitting until I see it so.