More Than a Woman...She’s My Sunshine

July 31, 2019

To be clear, I am a hopeless romantic. I went to college with the aspirations of changing the world and meeting the one I would spend the rest of my life with. I met Althea in November 2002. I knew then what I know now…she IS the one for me.  For all of those who are not into the idea that you can have a soul mate; someone made just for you, then this blog post is not for you.

When I started my journey in college, I portrayed something I really did not have; I portrayed confidence. In reality, I did not have confidence I wanted. So, I had to fake till I made it. I did NOT have a lot of value in myself. I did not have value in my physical appearance; I did not have value in identity. It was not self-hate; it was more of a belief that my Blackness (my ethnic/racial identity) was not valued by other Black people. I just wanted to be me. I wanted my version of Blackness that was authored solely by me and valued by others. But, for my first 2 years of college, I did not have the legitimacy I hungered for.

My perceived legitimacy came from my involvement on-campus. In other words, I had value in what I did (the works). I believed my works (to better humanity) earned my value with others. Althea taught me I was wrong. Just being me was enough to be valued. Althea got me. She appreciated my traits (flaws and all). She may not have understood my passion for guys like 2pac or Malcolm X, but she could empathize. She showed me that showing the world who I was and who I knew I was meant to be was just as important as the things I did. She believed in me when I was too stupid to believe in myself.

Althea pushes to embrace the unfamiliar. Sometimes that means trying things I have never tried before, or not letting my family’s past dictate my present or my future. She has told me to be naked in my story.  Be naked in my faith in Jesus…be naked in where I come from does not tell the world where I am going…be naked about my talents and my passion for the betterment of humanity. That nakedness had led me owning my leadership in my own home, embracing my call to teach and empower, and to eventually become Dr. Hurd (officially).

15 years into this journey called marriage, I can say I am more in-love with my Sunshine now than I was 15 years ago. I ache at her absence from my presence more than ever before. I have evolved as her husband, father to our children, and her best friend. At each stage of my evolution, my Althea, my Sunshine was there. She never stopped believing in…never stopped offering feedback…never stopped pushing me. To me that’s being more than a woman. No words I type or orally say will ever equate my appreciation and admiration of my Sunshine. When I call her Sunshine, it is not just a nickname. It is my attempt to put into words the light she has brought into my dark world. Calling her Sunshine is proof that I am deserving of unconditional love from someone who does NOT that have the same earthly bloodline as me.

Althea, my Sunshine, I only have one request… “Always remember us this way!”

Jet Black Shelby Mustangs!

-  Elgrie J.

Independence from Doubt and Uncertainty

July 4, 2019

I have always admired Victor's determination.  I met Victor D. Reynolds as an undergraduate in college.  He had goals of mastering Japanese, playing college basketball, and becoming a video game designer.  Within four years, he had playing college basketball and mastering Japanese under his belt.  Not much time had gone by before he was taking his skills of making video games that he had begun as a young teen to becoming part of design teams for some of the top video games.

When he left the world of video game programming/designing I was blown away.  What really stuck out to me was the description of his new reality.  He talked about how free he felt.  That is a beautiful thing.  The icing on the cake is how his major life transition would have a direct effect on my family.

At the center of my family is Althea; my Bride, my Sunshine.  People often associate me as the teacher of my family.  But, if we are being honest, it is Althea. I always knew Althea was a teacher.  When we first met nearly 20 years ago, she was in training to be an elementary school teacher.  And while she had not been in traditional teaching roles, she was always teaching.  As we began to have children, Althea was the one teaching our kids to read.  She was the one who did most of the homeschooling with our kids.  When she was doing all of that, she still found time to tutor the children of family and friends.  Althea is great at teaching kids.  But Althea has a secret:  She is great at teaching adults, too!

Since we have been in Texas, Althea has been teaching adults in formal and informal ways.  She has helped adults from all parts of the fitness continuum to learn how to maximize the benefits of making smoothies with a Vitamix.  Lately, over the last 2 years, she has been focusing on helping mothers before and after childbirth.  Althea has empowered moms to have a deeper understanding of the childbirth process (from comfort measures to the actual delivery).  Althea has even helped new moms improve their confidence in their breastfeeding techniques.

As Althea’s self-proclaimed biggest fan/cheerleader, it is cool to see Althea go from volunteering to leading classes for her own birth education business.  She’s not simply putting together classes occasionally; she is becoming more methodical, increasing her network, and getting requests from many non-profits to be their birth education presenter. 

This transformation has occurred from two things: (1) success coaching provided by Victor; (2) strategies of mindsets provided by Victor’s book, Get Off the Bench (2019).  As her coach, Victor has done a great job of equipping Althea to maximize her efforts and increase her efficiency to impact the birth education world.  He is constantly pushing her out of her comfort zone by tying her next steps to her “why;” tying everything back to her purpose. Get Off the Bench (2019) is a great complement to Victor’s coaching. In the book, he describes the impact of how mindsets can make or break the success of your business.  He also offers practical solutions on how to improve your mindset to find consistent success in your efforts.  Having read the book, I have implemented some of his strategies to stop mindsets that have hindered my own personal success.  And in the short period of applying his suggestions from his book, I have reaped some of the financial and motivational successes Althea has had.  

What is your mindset?  Are you still thinking that you are not good enough to be great?!  Do not sell yourself short.  Declare independence from the uncertainty and doubt in your life!

- Elgrie J.

For more info on Victor’s entrepreneurship coaching…

●     https://www.victordreynolds.com/

●     https://www.amazon.com/Get-Off-Bench-Playbook-Maximizing-ebook/dp/B07QG3J1J9

The Overwhelming Stolen Feeling

June 19, 2019

Last month, my family had the privilege to see the Hamilton musical.  My God!  What a great musical!  I had been waiting to see this musical for about 3 years.  With the combination of United States history and Hip-Hop coming together, I knew my family would be attached to this musical.  What I did not know was how much my attachment would feel stolen in the future.

Once we got our copy of the musical’s soundtrack, we were hooked.   The musical became something the whole family liked.  Eventually, it became a curriculum for my kids.  My wife created vocabulary lists for our children.  We broke down the historical context of each song.  The children worked on their public speaking by doing repeated Karaoke versions of the musical.  For nearly 3 years, if you visited my house, there would be a good chance my family would break into a song (in unison) to the musical.  So, when the chance came for us to see it, we were overwhelmed by the generosity of such a gift.

Upon arriving to the theatre, something seemed off.  As we parked, my wife and I noticed most of the People of Color (non-Europeans) were the staff members of the building.  Patrons of the musical were mostly white; most People of Color watching the musical were at the top of the balcony with us.  Unless you had binoculars (like we did), you could not see the cast members very well.  But my family did not care because we knew the songs inside and out; this was OUR musical.  It felt like a flashback.  I began to imagine what it would be like to be Black in the 1920s and trying to see Duke Ellington but feeling out of place as a patron versus being part of the night club’s paid help.  I was there to see something that was culturally part of me, but I felt very much like an outsider.

As the musical began, I wondered about the following:  How could the first number of the musical not move you?! It was an all-Black cast poetically telling a story of the birth of a United States that for all intents and purposes never sought to include Black people (or any People of Color). How artistically ironic and amazing! I was hoping to see lots of people standing or reciting with excitement. I did see them; they were the Black and Brown youth in the audience (in the balcony of the music hall).  As the musical went on, there were songs that should make you feel like you were at a concert; should make you want to dance.  The majority of the audience did applaud, but they did not dance.  They did not appear to experience the musical.

The longer the show went on, I got very introspective. I remember Sidney Poitier’s character in Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (1967) saying, "We are the Watusi." This line in the movie suggested that Black people have a different connection to their music than their white counterparts.  The musical was more than a musical; it was more than the history of the United States. The musical featured my culture:  Hip-Hop. Hip-Hop was being used to tell a story that was familiar. The audience was applauding Hip-Hop telling the good, the bad, and the ugly of the birth of the United States of America. Yet, part of me felt conflicted. I felt a stolen type of feeling because Hip-Hop was being praised, but only because in many ways it was maintaining the status quo about the history of the United States.

Hip-Hop was birthed as the voice of the voiceless in the ghettos of the USA.  Hip-Hop has been used to tell the good, the bad, and the ugly of predominantly Black and Brown people.  It is ironic that over the last 40 years, many of the Hip-Hop artists that have been bashed by mainstream white (affluent) USA sit at the center of the Hamilton musical.  Evidenced by the success of this musical, it is OK for Eminem, Melle-Mel, Snoop Dogg, DMX, Jay-Z, Mobb Deep, Notorious B.I.G., Busta Rhymes, A Tribe Called Quest, Beastie Boys, Kurtis Blow, Alicia Keys, Beyoncé, The Fugees, Cypress Hill, and Ja Rule to be used to tell a common story of US History. These same artists are shunned for telling their version of US History.  This is problematic for me.

People of Color get to tell the dominant culture’s story through our voice; we do not get to tell our story through our voice; we only get to tell it through the voice of dominant culture. The voice of the dominant culture that is lacking.  This needs to change!!!  This is the shift that I hope to get others to embrace:

●     Dominant culture’s voice does not give People of Color value.  People of Color have value that must be found within themselves; value should not be defined by others.

●     Dominant culture’s voice does not acknowledge past and current sins inflicted upon People of Color.  Slavery in the USA formally ended in 1865 (for the confederate states of the United States).  Slavery continued informally via segregation.  And the economic and social inequity ramifications of slavery have been proven statistically to still be a problem.  Having a Black president does not mean equity or equality has become the norm in the USA.

●     Dominant culture’s voice does not credit People of Color.  Individuals who prescribe to dominant culture must be willing to acknowledge white privilege perpetuates systemic racism in laws, education, and economics.  This includes the continuous systematic stealing of cultural aspects from People of Color for profit, but not allowing People of Color the same economic opportunity for promoting their own culture. For a self-starting conversation on privilege please see The Invisible Knapsack.

The story of shame and accountability of sins of the past that still affect the United States are still silenced.  Without a real opportunity to offer a more inclusive narrative, those who have had their voices stolen will only tell a biased story of the victor.  Viewing history or current events through the victor’s voice does not mean the perspective will tell the whole story.  It is time for EVERY voice within the United States of America to be heard.  Hip-Hop is a voice that needs to be included.  Unfortunately, there are opponents to Hip-Hop that suggest only certain Hip-Hop voices are heard.  But why? Is it because of the ugliness of a narrative of injustice that continues to go unnoticed?!  Is it because of the guilt one feels for the privilege rooted in race and xenophobia?!  It is not enough to hear about the happy narratives of Hip-Hop; there needs to be room for the bad and ugly narratives to be heard and given credibility.  It is time for EVERYONE to be given the opportunity to take a shot!  So, here’s the question:  Will you help or block the opportunity of others whose voices need to be heard?

- Elgrie J.

For My Daughters via My Wife and Mothers

March 31, 2019

March is Women's Herstory month. It is a time that encourages the world to honor women (even though people should honor women all year long). My movie watching this month started with watching Captain Marvel (2019) with one of my daughters; I ended this month watching The Darkest Minds (2018). Both films taught me valuable lessons about the dangers of being overprotective male, and not listening to the voices of the women in your life. These messages are not new to me. But as a parent, I am able to appreciate them so much more now. 

I have four (4) daughters; one born into my family and three were inherited as Goddaughters.  As a father I hope to protect my daughters from harm and support their dreams. There are times when I have good intentions to help.  Unfortunately, sometimes my efforts to help do more harm than good. In these moments I have forgotten the lessons taught by wife and those who have been like mothers to me.

My wife has a passion for mothers. She is constantly pushing to make the voices of mothers known, including her own. Medically, socially, economically, and spiritually we tend to ignore the voice of mothers. Sadly, it is not just mothers, but the voices of women tend to be muted or dismissed. I have seen and read about some of the dangerous consequences of women being muted and/or dismissed. As a man, my wife has shown me how I have been an unknowing accomplice to barriers created for women and girls. And if my desire is to change the role I play in this, I have to put all of my views and actions under the microscope... I must be willing to create short-term and long-term plans of action.

My daughters deserve better. I need to accept my daughters' views as important, even if they are different from mine. I cannot assume about their interests; I need to investigate. That means letting them talk (or text) about their world and actively listening. I need to be willing to participate in their interests with enthusiasm, even if it puts me outside my own comfort zone. This also means for me to be willing to own my efforts that create barriers for my daughters and seek forgiveness. I want them to see my status in their lives does not negate my need to be held responsible.

My mother died when I was 14…God gave me a lot of mothers to fill the void of not having mine. He gave me My grandmother, aunts, one special lady (SG), and high school administrators. These women revised my understanding of strength and toughness.

In my experiences with all my mothers, I was taught how tough mothers can be.  Such a heavy burden is given to them. And all the mothers I knew, no matter the odds that were against them, found a way. From the men in their lives they needed space to do their thing more than anything else.

My mothers taught me some other valuable lessons too...

●     The toughness of the women in my life were not the exception...that toughness is the norm

●     Taught me the complexity of being a woman and mother. To be completely honest I'm only scratching the tip of the iceberg of the complexity.  I still don't have it all

March is women's herstory month. It would be problematic of me to celebrate and listen to women for only 31 days of the year. Supporting the women and girls in your life cannot be taken lightly; it cannot be done haphazardly... there must be daily intentionality in your efforts. To the self-identifying males...

●     We need to listen

●     We need to own our biases as males

●     We need to create a platform to amplify the voices of women

●     How you promoting the her-stories in your life?!

So, what will be your contribution to her-stories in your life?!

I'm Not Afraid of the Hustle

February 28, 2019

All my life I have been the runt of my family and friends (size-wise).  I did not reach five feet in height until the end of my junior year in high school.  So, if I wanted to be included in activities, I had to think differently.  I could not necessarily depend on speed or brute strength.  It was not simply about how hard I worked; it was more so about how smart I worked. At the time I was experiencing this reality, I was bothered by it.  In hindsight, it pushed me to align myself with the ethos that had defined many people of the San Francisco Bay Area...hustle!

If you were raised in the Bay Area and your family wasn’t rich, you learned that if you wanted to have things or to achieve something great, you had to hustle for it.  When I type the word hustle, I am not implying that you must do anything illegal.  For me, hustle refers to finding ways to get resources to get what you want in life. At times getting the resources the you want/need means doing things you may not want to do; other times it might be doing what you love to the point of exhaustion.  No matter the medium, if you can get the results you want (without losing your soul or ethics in the process), it is worth it.

My environment might have taught me that I needed to hustle to find success, but members of my family modeled for me the art of hustling.  My maternal grandma and my dad taught me hustling.  Ida Lee Johnson/My grandma was the bartering queen.  She may not have had a lot of money, but she knew how to market her skills of cooking and bargain shopping.  If there was something she needed (or I wanted), she would cook desserts, or can fruits in exchange for a service/item she wanted.  And occasionally she would just outright sell her desserts and canned fruits.  When she was not doing that, she was shopping for others (who did not have cars or who could not drive) decades before Uber Eats was around.  My grandma was like if you can’t get it the way you thought you could it, find another way.  Not her skin color, her gender/sex, nor her lack of formal education got in her way.

My dad did his best to not let barriers get in his way either.  He taught me a different kind of hustle.  He taught me about the art of hustling world systems.  He showed me the game of the systems he was familiar with that influenced his world. He stressed to me (formally and informally) to learn the rules, master them, and use them to your advantage.  He showed that if you know how to do something in a way no one knows else does, make sure others know about it...make sure they seek you out. So, for much of my life my dad did not have a lot of formal education beyond an associate degree.  But he took what he could from each opportunity to make sure regardless of the economy, he could find a way to ensure the economy needed him.

As early as elementary school, I tried to market my skill sets and make sure people sought me out.   By the time I got to junior high, I was sharing poems/rhymes, selling candy, offering academic assistance, and selling bus passes for monetary profit.  This hustling helped me get things I wanted and needed.  When I reached college, I was coached by others to think beyond using my skills for simply monetary profits.  I learned to use my skills to help me master systems of my world to create lifelong networking opportunities that would be priceless towards reaching goals in life.  In my life I have constantly been given lemons.  And time and time again, and I have repeatedly found ways to make lemonade.  

As I have gotten older, I have learned when it comes to hustling, some things I must depend on God to handle.  The rest is up to me.  Right now, I’m using the skill sets I know best to help my family get by.  I’m schooling my kids on the importance of working smarter, not harder and finding outside-the-box strategies to get results.  At the same time, I am using those same skill sets to market myself for the end game.  My current discomfort is not permanent; it is just temporary.  Being afraid of a little hustle is NOT an option for me because I don’t want to miss my shot!  Don’t be afraid of the hustle...your dreams are depending on you!

-Elgrie J.

I Got Family, They Got Me

December 31, 2018

Many people tend to have their own definition of family. For some people, family is defined as the people who share the same bloodline as you. For others, the definition is those who look after you no matter what. But for me it's more than that.  For me family means that you are part of someone's dreams. That doesn't mean that people who support your dreams are going to fix dreams for you, or that they are going to lead the way, so all your dreams come true. Family is made up of individuals who believe in your dreams, unconditionally.

As a young child I always had dreams of doing big things for the world. I was optimistic and inspired by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, Harriet Tubman, Frederick Douglas, and Rosa Parks.  I had audacity of hope that I could help make the world a better place; that I could solve the problems that were byproducts of hate and misunderstandings of others.  And then life happens in real time and your world changes. Then you realize that things are not always what they seem, and some things don't always work out the way you planned.

My oldest sister died when I was 8 years-old. My sister was my rock star, my idol, my role model, and everything that was good in the world; everything that made living exciting. She wanted to help others; she wanted to be a medical doctor. And I loved that about her. So, when she died that became my dream.  As I got older living the dream for someone else about someone else was not enough. When I got to high school, I realized I had a dream for myself.

I knew I wanted to be an educator from the moment I took US history in high school. I knew I loved teaching people things they needed to know, so they could get to where they wanted to go. Teaching brings me joy…the same joy as making the last shot in a game; the same joy as helping your team in a wrestling dual meet…the same joy taking 1st place in a race. It was a joy no one could take from me; a joy that wasn't temporary.  And that's how I knew it was my calling. I did know exactly how I was going to do this educator thing, but my family supported me along the way.

People can say they support your dreams because it is easy to say. To really do it right, it takes an intentional willingness to really support a dream that is not yours, even in the face of adversity; even in the face of uncertainty...even when you don't understand exactly what the dream means. Family is about helping each other without expectations of something in return. You help because you believe the dream a family member is trying to make come true is what's best for them...brings out the best in them and will help them make a lasting impact on this planet, whether their impact is large or microscopic.

I am grateful for the family that I have in my life. I don't have a lot of friends, but I do have a lot of family. And my family members have found many ways to help me in reaching my dreams. They help me even when my dreams have changed. Some help with words of encouragement; others help with providing physical labor to get things done. Some help financially, while others provide free or discounted services.  Some family members provided (and are still willing to provide me) love donations in the form of food, clothes, housing, and even transportation. A whole lot of people in my family have done lots of praying for me. And a small few have done all the above. I don't think the Merriam-Webster's Dictionary, or the New American Heritage Dictionary have the words to accurately describe how blessed and privileged I am to have the family that I have.

This journey has reminded me that the most important family that I have on this planet are the ones sitting in my house. My family starts with my better half, my Sunshine, my wife. Before I even finished college, she believed in the dream I only joked about. She knew that one day I would do something that I thought was impossible; that one day I would become a doctor in some social science/education field. Since we became a couple, she listed me in her phone contacts as “Dr. Hurd.” She believed in me when I was too foolish to believe in myself. In contemporary times she believes in me when I have doubts or when I have set backs in this dissertation journey.  But that's what family is for. Everyday my family locally, regionally, nationally, and even internationally reminds me that I'm not alone...ALL my family is with me on this journey all the way to the finish line (whenever it comes).

So, here are my recommendations to everyone reading this:  First, find family members who believe in your dreams.  Second, when you find them, thank them often.

To my family who has unconditionally supported my dreams, thank you!!!

DREAM BIG!!!

Journey of Faith

November 26/November 27, 2018

The following is a testimony about Jesus Christ...

Some days change your life forever.  August 14, 2009 was one of those days for me.  Someone T-boned the car I was driving on the freeway. My car was totaled.  When they took me to the emergency room, the MRI technician found cancer in my pancreas.  It was my Jonah moment.  For years I had been running from serving God; I had been running towards serving myself.  I justified my behavior by rationalizing I was working non-stop to support my family.  

August 14, 2009 brought my running to a halt; my car crash on that day changed everything.  I should have died from that car crash.  On that day I was “spit” out of a whale of circumstances.  I knew I had to change things.  I had to pick up the cross Jesus had left for me and stop making excuses.  I decided to commit to serve in the youth ministry at my church.  While awaiting a surgery to remove the cancer, I began serving faithfully.  Then, on November 16, 2009, I had the surgery; I was given a second chance. Moving to Texas was a major part of my faith journey. Texas wasn't part of my original plans. But in 2007, God revised my plans.

None of this would have been possible had I not take a major leap of faith in 2007.  That is when my first child (Mighty) was born. He was a game-changer. He made me ponder what would be best for my household. There were so many things to consider from the moment I found out my wife was pregnant. From employment opportunities, to insurance, how it would affect Mighty was paramount.  And just when I thought I had it all figured out, my son who was not even 4 months old, convinced his mama she needed to stay at home beyond her job’s maternity leave.  One problem:  we lived in the San Francisco Bay Area.  I worked at a Title I school (a school in a low-income school district) and my wife worked at a Christian non-profit in the same neighborhood where I taught.  We couldn’t stay in the Bay; we had to move. I got a retroactive pay raise, and we used it to cover our moving expenses.  (The amount of my raise was almost the exact amount of money needed to rent a moving truck.)  All we knew was we needed to live out this new vision of Althea staying at home with Mighty...we knew we could not do it California (the way we wanted).  We were officially moving to Texas.

I kicked and screamed (internally) all the way from California to Texas. My pouting caused me to really dismiss the blessings that came my way. An example of the blessings included my sister-in-law letting us stay with her family for several months while I looked for a job. This led me to going to a job searching class that helped me be more strategic in job searching. From that training I got a job teaching high school English, psychology, and sociology.  A college recruiter came to my high school recruiting students and told me his campus needed a sociology instructor.  Eventually, I got hired as an adjunct faculty member at a career college; the adjunct position made me a desirable pick to become the college’s first (and only) Dean of Student Services for the next 4 ½ years.  All those changes happened in less than 2 years after moving to Texas.  They happened because I took a leap of faith. That leap of faith led me to that fateful day traveling southbound on Interstate 35E. Then, on November 16, 2009, the cancer was removed; God gave me a chance to do-better. Had we stayed in California, the cancer would have spread, and I never would have known.  The cancer in my pancreas would have killed me.  Pancreatic cancer is a silent killer.  I showed no signs.  Yet, it was not my time.  God was not done with me; I had work to do.  However, that work was only possible because of the journey of faith Althea and I began in 2007.  After the surgery, two-thirds of my pancreas was gone; my spleen was gone.  Even still, my body continued to function just fine.  By the time I healed, I was back to serving at church.  Then, my son wanted to come to church...then my daughter wanted to come. Eventually, my entire family was coming and serving like we had never served before.  In the process of all of that, I found a purpose that allowed me to serve Christ through psychology.  I enrolled in a doctoral program in August of 2011.  My reality in 2018 is the manifestation of unexpected detours that brought Christ back to the center of my life.  

I sit here 9 years after that car crash feeling even more faithful in Christ, my marriage, and in my relationships with my children.  So many blessings would have never happened if I did not embrace the detours.  I may not have liked each detour that has been sent my way, but my faith supersedes my need to understand.  I understand there is a purpose; often a purpose that is beyond my comprehension.  I believe that God knows what He is doing. In the end I will be stronger, and I will be a conduit for God to bless others.  Thus, I embrace the detours.  Detours keep coming my way.  And it is all good.  I am in it for the long-run, because slow and steady wins this race!

'Til I write again,

Elgrie J. Hurd III