200 Men Said…. Get Tested

        First, before you read this, read my blog from last Monday~> Writer’s Block: Tsion the Wordsmith~Miss Valentine .

        As a female who lives in the AIDS/HIV Capital of the U.S.A,Washington, D.C.,  I am sooooooo big on this topic that you wouldn’t even believe the efforts that I go through to make sure that women understand what they are putting their bodies up for when having sex. I have to be up front ladies… the condom is NOT the man’s responsibility….alone. You, too, need to have two of each size condom ( just in case he should come up short) and you should also have dental dam. If the phrase “dental dam” just made you tilt your head Scooby style, then honey, you need to STOP having sex immediately because you are missing very important elements of sex education and sex preparation.

       Yes, I am grown enough to know that everyone is not safe all of the time. Now that we all have admitted to it, what do we plan to do about it? Ladies, how do you plan to protect yourself? As a woman, there have been times when I have gone and gotten tested and found out that my guy had sex with an ex the day I got tested which voided the results he showed me. Or the guy’s wife ( who lived in another state) saw pics of us on Myspace and wanted to know what i was doing with her husband….and I didn’t even know he was married…did I mentioned she lived in another state?! Or being with a guy who reveals that he use to like men. I don’t judge him… but this is information you need to tell me BEFORE we head down this road. So you see, preparing yourself with knowledge about your partner is just as important as if you put a condom in your purse or wallet. You need BOTH to be safe in the game of sex. Nothing is guaranteed. NOTHING!

        Using a condom but having oral sex without a dental damn makes about as much sense as you getting gas and pulling off with the tank wide the fuck open. Yes, I’m being a hypocrite…but, as a reformed hypocrite I have seen the errors of my ways and I wanted to step forth and be brave enough to talk about it. So yes, I get tested before EVERY guy I am with. Yes, I only have ONE sexual partner in a 12 month period….NO EXCEPTIONS! This is what I do, but even this is not enough if I don’t know the status of my partner. I need solid proof, like seeing his results or going to get tested with him. So, this is why I am celibate and have been for quite some time. I might set a fire if I cross my legs, but at least I am healthy.  HIV NEGATIVE!!!!!!

So, I asked my 200 men the following question: 

HIV/AIDS is high in certain communities. How often do you get tested? Have you ever gotten tested BEFORE sex with a person? DO you do the mouth swab or blood test?

And they came back with the following answers.

• Prestige “The One And Only”: Every three months, blood test.
• Allen Ozark: Yup Tested. Nope, not positive. in fact i have NEVER had any kind of STD … EVER! and i never will! I understand the whole aids / std epidemic, but i just don’t understand the whole aids / std epidemic. a true gentlemen never infects others.
• Lateef25: Every six months
• *~ MR SPONTANEOUS ~*!!PEACE!!: I get tested often, but it’s a requirement with my job to get tested every year. They have always taken my blood. I would not have unprotected sex without knowing the other person’s status.
• Aries Brotha: At least one a year. Yes. And it’s a rather moot right now as i’ve decided to reframe from having sex. Just dating.
• Kip S: I get tested every year. Yes, I’ve gotten tested before and after sex, typically blood test.
• RANDELL the caribbean prince[R]: well i only have one partner at a time. I don’t sleep around but i get tested every six months
• K-LUST THE WILDEST MOUTH!: I HAVE BEEN TESTED. AIDS FREE. I USE THE SWAB AND I HAVE HAD MY BLOOD TESTED. MOST RECENT TEST WAS LAST YEAR!! JUNE. IMMMM SAFE!!!!! SO LETS GET IT INNN!! LOL
• ”DUKE” BANNER: YES I ALWAYS GO TO THE DOCTOR EVERY SIX MONTHS. I HAVE RA AND I GO TO MY CARDIOLOGIST I WAS POISON HAD GOT REAL SICK

And then ladies, you have men who respond like this:

• Pete E.: not in my community

       Yes, he did say that AIDS does not exist in his community. I hit him up and pressed further. He said that no one where he lives has AIDS or HIV and he would know so this doesn’t concern him. I tried to press further but he just wanted to holla at me. Did he really think that he could get my number after a response like that? SIKE!

        And you know that now and then you will run into the religious aspect of a question like this. But trust me when I tell you, NOTHING, and I mean NOTHING, could have prepared me for this particular religious spin on getting tested for HIV/AIDS:

• www. twitter. com/kingdomgate_ent: Never got tested nor will I ever! If God is for me who can be against me? Aids is a curse and Jesus already took that to the cross. I just do my part by not putting myself in the judgement seat by sleeping with every woman in site.
• Me: Hello, I thank you for answering my question about getting tested for HIV/AIDS. Your response is very admirable. I just have to ask one question and I hope that you can answer it to help me better understand your response. You said that you have never gotten tested and nor will you ever. SO my questions are: 1. Do you know that in some states, to get married, you are required to take an AIDS test? 2. Are you a virgin or have you ever had sex before? And it was interesting to listen to the song that is on your page as I write this note. Arise-Cherry Pie. Have a blessed evening.
• www. twitter. com/kingdomgate_ent: Im not worried about that. Yes I have had sex before,but aids is the last of my concern.
• Me: Did you use protection when you did have sex before? Sorry to be personal, I just agree with your original comment on some levels and am bothered by them as a woman on another. So, I am just seeking clarification.
• www. twitter. com/kingdomgate_ent:The difference is I am focused on Jesus and you want to focus on aids, aids is a judgement but people in the Christian world get healed from it everyday. I don’t worry about sickness because I’m not going out sleeping with everyone,or anybody for that matter my past is my past I don’t go digging into it. If there is a church that’s gonna be raptured up who is worried about disease? Jesus nailed disease, sickness, and misery  to the cross for everyone,everybody just doesn’t have the same measure of faith. When you don’t tap into faith you don’t know what you truly have access to in Jesus Christ. 
• Me: Okay, so… I agree with you on some of it. So are you saying that you are refraining from sex until you get married? And you currently do not know your HIV/AIDS status because you are covered in the favor of God?
• www. twitter. com/kingdomgate_ent: I’m covered by the blood of Jesus therefore I do know that I don’t have aids,this is not what I think it’s what I know.

        Ummmmm…I am sitting here trying to wipe my face clean but I can’t. He did give me permission to post hit Twitter link, so I did get that clearance. Again, I do understand being covered in the blood of the lamb. But you can NOT make me believe that I can walk outside of God’s kingdom to fornicate and then come back in to behave holier than thou and claim the blood in retrospect. Aint no way! You cant expect to be of the world and be covered by that which is not of that world.  It doesn’t and will NEVER work that way.

        If you behave in the world, you must abide by the rules and laws of that world. Therefore, do not be so afraid to get tested that you run behind the amour of God. I have faith in God to know that I will walk into the testing facility, get tested and be HIV Negative. THAT is how much faith I have. But I am also wise enough to know that if I keep testing God’s patience with my worldly activities that He can use HIV/AIDS to the betterment of His kingdom. So I am not immuned if I dabble in the world while engulfed in lust.  It is all or nothing!

        So ladies, even the religious dudes can get you hemmed up with something you can’t get rid of. So somewhere between you breaking the headboard and singing in the choir on Sunday, BOTH of you need to get tested. I am not judging you for the contradiction, but I am advising you to not continue the contradiction and hide behind faith. It isn’t wise. Protect yourself.

        I’ll never forget sitting at the McDonalds on Alabama Ave SE, D.C. with a coworker when a guy walks up and says, “Hi, my name is Michael. I’m HIV Negative, no kids, own place, and I drive” as he proceeds to pull out his HIV Negative Test results. I COULD HAVE DIED!!!  It was hilarious because it was random, but how scary is it that seeing a man with his HIV Negative results was sexy as shit! Have we reached this point? Soon will we need to have hand-held scanners like the BBM coder to see if the person you are talking to was Negative? I hope not, but stuff like this only happens to me. I swear.  People… You are NOT Magic. You don’t have his money, nor his insurance. WRAP IT UP! GET TESTED! KNOW YOUR STATUS! GET TESTED TOGETHER!!!! Protect yourself first. And anyone who makes a stink about it… tell them to go dry hump cement.

Sincerely,

~*My Mother’s Daughter*~

Writer’s Block: Tsion the Wordsmith~Miss Valentine

        Okay, so….this topic will NEVER get old to me. It is a topic that is close to my heart. And I can’t say much about it in this intro because it would spoil the read. So…..

        I called in a  favor to a real good friend of mine, Tsion the Wordsmith, and I asked him if he could send me a copy of this poem. Tsion and I slammed on the 2009 Busboys and Poets 11th Hour Slam Team together…and this would become one of my favorite poems. I mean, the way that he sets it up to the way that the story unfolds….beautiful. And of course I plan to tell him this one day… but I dont want his head to get bigger than what it already is. LMAO! But, I called him as soon as I sent out the question for my 200 Men because it was the FIRST thing that came to mind. I wanted local DC, Maryland, and Virginia talent to be showcased for this particular topic. Plus…. I get to expose you all to some of my amazing friends and their talents. I could talk about it for hours, but I would rather you read it first. Enjoy!

Miss Valentine by: Tsion the Wordsmith

It was a Thursday…
and I was on the corner of 14th and Lennox listening to a crackhead preach about how we was all sinners and needed Jesus
now I wasn’t paying him no mind, just indulging his conversation
growing impatient though cause I had my eye on this bar named “Susie’s”
owned by a Jamaican  whose name was…
well, I don’t think nobody really know what his name was
I finished up talking, walked across the street went into the bar
and heard a voice say, “you gonna have the paul mason straight?”
surprised me cause that’s the thing I would drink whenever I went into the place…
then from around the corner walked the prettiest face I had ever seen
if looks were skills then she would have been the captain of the dream team; and the first at that
plus she had a body to match
for real, this woman was a killer
if looks could kill she would be number one on America’s most wanted list
gliding and swaying across this plane; every now and then she would kiss it with her presence

so, she slid up in front of me and said, “I know I surprised you by knowing what you like to cop
but I know you also only come in here on Thursdays and you always sit in the same spot
easy, cause you been coming in here for about six months and two weeks
and I hope its not too conceited but I’m the best looking thing in here and you never once decided to speak
maybe you didn’t notice me cause I was in the antibody crowd and it’s kinda hard to notice anybody when antibodies are hanging
but if anti-bodies are hanging around anybody, it should let you know something is bound to go down
cause antibodies only hang around anybody when somethings going down”
….I didn’t understand one word said; but she told me that was alright cause i would before the night was over
told me her name was Susie and asked, “what’s yours young soldier?”
I told my name was Tsion and asked was she the Susie that ran the place
yeah was the reply and I found it funny cause I would never put that name to that face
she told me it was her daughter’s name and she did it in her memory
“no matter where I go or what I do, she will always be here with me”
so I asked her real name but she brushed me off cause she had other customers to attend to
figured I head through my Thursday ritual of four drinks and head back to the capitol
when I heard “that’s it young soldier, you just gonna speak?
you not gonna ask a pretty young lady out to eat?”
I had a couple dollars to spare so yeah, we could go out for a bite to eat
but before we go, she said she had a couple of her white blood cell buddies she needed to meet
I guess she did some time and her cellys were white
they must cut each other, bonded and became blood sisters for life
so we met up with them and I was still thinking what exactly, what is her name
I asked and with a wicked grin she said “Maylene”
but I figured that really wasn’t her name
but she said if a rose were called by anything else would it still not smell the same…
…true….true…

well, we made it back to my place and before I could the key in the door her lips were on mine
her arms were around my shoulders, and my hands on her behind
the whole time thinking exactly what is the name that her mother gave
I asked her again and she said “call me dominatrix for tonight you will be my slave”
slave to my motion, slave to my track, slave to rhyme, slave to my kat
and it ain’t bother me cause I figured it would be the best I ever had
so when she told me she would be with me for the rest of my life, all I could do is laugh
at my good fortune; saying if only I could believe everything you say as true
she said you can for what I’m about to give you, there is no cure
so jump aboard and ride this ride, but remember lil boy it’s best when you do it rawhide

so we started stroking…
and she wasn’t lying when she said she knew what she was doing
losing my on ecstasy street by the way she was moving
her kitty kat walls
it’s like they grew claws and pulled me in
had my back arching and bending in ways that I never knew it could bend
blending the lines between fantasy and reality until there was nothing left but she and I
and I was trying to maintain composure but it was like with each little stroke I would die
and go to heaven; never wanting to come back, wanting to stay embedded between her thighs
and I figured since I was a real man I had to give her at least 45 minutes of good loving
but after 12 she stroked me real hard and I cried out and filled her with my seed for a thousand tomorrows…

at that point, I was out of breath…
laid my head on the pillow, felt something moving, looked over, this woman was getting dress
so I jumped up, threw on my pants as she was running down my hall
called out real loud “can I have your name and possibly your number so I can give you a call?”
she laughed out loud the biggest laugh I had ever heard in my life and said “little boy, you ain’t been paying attention at all
you don’t need my name or number, imma be with you for the rest of your life; for tonight I made you one of my white blood cell buddies
but if you must know my name is Hazel Irene Valentine…
but you can call me H I V…

 

        So, what’d you think? I thought that this was a clever display of wordplay placed in a realistic setting and hidden behind an obvious epidemic. I think that as a society we have become complacent when it comes to the awareness of the preventable. And not just HIV/AIDS, but in life in general. I love how this was placed from a male’s point of view as seldom do we as a community get the opportunity to hear how men are exposed. This has become a woman’s disease, if you believed the media. They make women responsible for knowing their status. They blame DL brothers for keeping it going. So at what point do we blame everyone for their actions?

        Of course I had to do my own research, so I asked my 200 men what they thought about the topic. And you would die from shock based on what you read. So, come back tomorrow and read what they had to say in 200 Men Said….Get Tested.

Sincerely,

~*My Mother’s Daughter*~

CD Baby: The Diary of a Reluctant Poet

Reverbnation: Tsion the Wordsmith

What Happens in this House….:A Molestation Survivor Speaks

WARNING: This is a very graphic and tough topic. Personal experiences and sexual references are made and PARENTAL DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

        Somewhere, in some part of the world, there is a little girl snuggled in her bed pressed against a wall, head under her pillow with just enough space to inhale for the breath holding ahead and to peek towards the door knob awaiting the return of her personal boogie man. Monsters Inc prepares children for the monsters who reside under your bed and in your closets, but what about the monsters who pin you down to the bed and force you and this secret into the closet….what then?

        I was one of those children, and I don’t know if I have ever stopped being one of those children. To this day, I sleep with my bedroom door locked, a privilege that was not granted to me living under his roof. I have escape routes out of windows in my house just in case an intruder were to ever invade my safe haven. Windows covered in complete darkness resemble the rooms I had growing up because our neighbor’s house was so close and he lived by the rule of thumb that “what happens in this house stays in this house.” Who was I to judge his authority?

(Screaming!) He molested me! *exhales* There, I said it…outloud. Who is this “he”, you ask?

        He was my father, Charles S Carter Jr, and he was the man who molested me from before I could remember until the courts took us away from him when I was 12 years old. People say that I look like him, but I still need a DNA test to even begin that process. He was an electrical engineer with several degrees who spoke several languages, and a normal relationship was as foreign to us as him speaking Korean to me in moments of battle. I was his daughter. His first-born, born from the love that he had once married to my mother, but I would come to learn that although I was not his favorite I would turn out to be Daddy’s Girl. Late night parent daughter talks, asthmatic lungs inhaling the stench of Newports from his chest as the weight of a grown man crushed my prepubescent body into a mattress for no other reason than I was female, easily accessible, and he had a disease that yearned to be fed. Daughter perched on daddy’s lap became a moment to talk about whatever popped up, as eyes were turned to the roaming hands of a step brother who idolized him and my flat chest at the same time. This is where I lived and died daily. I lived with a military man who swore to protect his country but protected the secret of his personal habit even harder. Just ask my crushed toes underneath the Army boots that were now stepping on my feet for not wearing socks or houseshoes…as if being his daughter wasnt punishment enough.

        I remember being punished just for breathing too loudly; popped in the mouth for the escape of a smack reaching his eardrum. A simple tug of his beard meant I was in trouble. One time, he hit me so hard in my tailbone that I lost control of my legs and urinated on myself all in one swift swoop, just to turn around and get a whooping for messing up the floor. A call from the teacher meant that I would have to strip in front of my father and walk the house butt naked and if he saw me ,and felt like it, then I would get a whooping right then and there. I became a master at silently turning door knobs better than he could and dodging in and out of bedrooms and hallway closets just to go to and from the bathroom in peace. Doing number two (pardon the graphics) was the only time I could be in the bathroom in peace without anyone entering.  Fingers entering openings to ensure “cleaning” because I was filthy, followed by my father laying me on the bed to towel dry me off and rub me from head to toe with baby oil. Slow grinding on me was common place. Adolescent hips popping out of socket under the weight of his grinding, hurting, caused me to try to push him off because talking would make him lose his concentration and bring whoopings. He never listened to my cries and held my hands down. There I was, learning the best lessons of male and female relationships from my father. How lucky was I to learn about the birds and bees from my own father? Every girl needs a father in the house, right?

        One day in church I just didn’t want to go back to his house. My aunt couldn’t make me if God told me to go back himself. I’d had enough. Sitting in the police station with male police officers giving me different toys to describe my fathers penis proved unfruitful; I didn’t trust males. They had no choice but to send me back. I got a whooping until I blacked out. My father took me to a therapist to save face…maybe she could figure out where I was “making these stories up”.

        Off of Carmichael Road in Montgomery, Alabama sat my therapist’s office. A soft-spoken caucasian woman who listened intently as my father sat on the other side of the door.  That is until the day she asked me to re-enact with Barbie and Ken what I told the police happened….so, I showed her. She opened the door and invited my father into the room so he could see too. I never spoke of anything again. And yes, you guessed it….I got a whooping until I had an asthma attack and he had to take me to Maxwell Air Force Base to the ER. This time my Aunt believed me and she fought for custody…but she still allowed him visitations until she passed away when I was 15. He came to her house for her funeral and sat in the kitchen and told ever male there not to be trusted around me because I would lie on them like I had lied on him. And he vanished into street legend. I never saw him, or the therapist ever again.

        My father followed me, in theory. I heard stories of him doing crack from friends in high school, but he had taught me the best lesson ever; Never let anyone make you feel like less of a person. I walked those halls of my high school as a virgin…because I was. Guys from all around wanted to be with the virgin and every single one failed. I wouldn’t willingly give myself to someone until I was in college. You see….I was molested, but he didn’t take my virginity.

        Every guy is not my father, nor am I searching for him in every guy that I date….but through all that I wrote above and more that I didn’t write….I was still a human. A demon like him couldn’t touch the best parts of me. He couldn’t reach them with all of his might because his intentions were wrong. My virginity had nothing to do with sex…my virginity was me, my mind, my free spirit, my determination to rise above where people keep putting me, and the favor that was placed over me even though I was entangled in a generational curse. He tried, but I walked out of his house and his presence with the hymen of my integrity and the mission over my life in tack.

        Today, he lives in Baltimore. He’s never been prosecuted, never been made to suffer for what he put me and others through. One day, and maybe soon… I will walk to where they say that he works and tell him that he couldn’t break me. He couldn’t make me feel less than a princess even though my father wasnt a king.

        This is a part of what I went through, but it is NOT who I am. It helped me make decisions about not showing my body to just any guy. You’ll never hear tales of me sleeping with different guys all in the name of love without being in love. You’ll never see pics of me plastered on the internet that show more of my assets than I am showing I am worth. And you will never hear that I’ve stopped breaking the silence. I was molested but I was never a victim. My virginity never has to be born again because it never died. I found strength through this. Dont get me wrong, I’d never go back a second time…. but I made it out, and THAT is something to be proud of. Where I came from does NOT determine where I will go.

       So, to anyone who has been through similar stories….today is not too late to realize that they had the problem and not you. We are of a sisterhood that many will never understand. I salute you and all of your wonderful glory. I stopped holding my father accountable for what he did to me and the effects it had on my life the day I last saw him….that is not my battle. It weighs you down, trust me. I try to find love as much as often in my daily activities…..today.. I love you. One day you will gain the strength to no longer be ashamed of your story…until then I will speak for you, I dont mind. What are sisters for, right?

        My prayer is that, just this once ,you listen to my father: What happened in your house, stays in your house…..including the pain and the shame. We’ve got other little girls to protect. No time for living in the past. Here, take my hand…..I’m with you as we walk out of our molester’s house. God bless!

Sincerely,

~*My Mother’s Daughter*~

This is the house where majority of it happened. On Pinebrook Dr in Montgomery,AL