Two Maxims

1. Yesterday, Tania and myself were performing in an elementary school in the Philadelphia area. There were three grades represented: 4th-6th. As I was perusing the audience, I took notice at how so many 4th graders have lost their innocence already. I started thinking about my daughter. She will be three in June. I felt panicky. Will Saskia look like some of these children so soon? Will all her innocence be faded by age 9? Six and a half years -- that's too quick. I don't have much time! Time is running out. I saw how much time I did not have.

The other day, I was waiting for a friend to arrive. We had set the time, and I knew I had three hours before he arrived. Three hours. I had plenty of time. I meandered around my apartment checking email, reading a book, watching a tv show, and just noticing how slow time was going because I had so much time on my hand.

Maxim: When you focus on how much time you don't have time will travel quickly; when you focus on how much time you do have time will move slowly. Focus on what you have, not what you do not have.

2. I went down to the deep south in North America a couple of months ago. I hadn't been to this particular state before, and I had some fear about how they would respond to me, because as a black northern fella, I have some deep rooted suspicions and prejudgments about white, southern males and females, and their reaction towards me. I thought I would be met with some obvious racism from these citizens; I was prepared. I was ready for my judgments to hold steady.

I'm happy to say, my friend lives in a large university town, and university towns tend to pull in a more liberal and open-minded atmosphere. This was true of this southern city. People were friendly, and genuinely so. They treated me kindly, without suspicion, and made me feel at ease. There was only one time that I noticed a different feel than my homeostasis. I walked into a restaurant with this lovely friend of mine, (who, by the way, I completely adore), and people stopped eating to stare at us, both black and white. Of course, I immediately thought it was because of how stunning my friend is, (which still could be the case), but the looks betrayed something else, almost as if people were looking at something very foreign. And they were.

Allow me to describe my friend. In the spirit of anonymity, I will call my friend GK. GK is white and her hair is blond. As I said before, I am black. In the deep South, I have noticed how few interactions blacks and whites have together, socially or romantically. The two don't mix as often as they do in the North. GK is a genuine exception to this rule. She doesn't describe her friends by their race or sexual orientation. This is also true of GK's best friend, who I'll code name, Trouble. They see people for people.

Nonetheless, outside of this minor staring incident, I felt happy to be proved wrong. I walked away from this southern city with less judgment. I learned that I shouldn't judge too quickly.

On Saturday, GK told me about a conversation she had with a peripheral MySpace person on her friend's list. He asked her, "Why did you come to the bar with a black guy?" She replied, "What?!" He said, "Why did you come to the bar with a nigger?" GK flipped, had a few choice words, and was restrained from hunting the guy down and killing him. Later, this same imbecile attempted to leave a message on GK's comment board with the following statement: GK is a nigger-lover.

I was stunned and speechless. This is 2007 and there are people who still use the word, "nigger-lover". It was laughable and almost unbelievable. For about 30 minutes, I kept thinking that GK was going to call back and tell me that she was just pulling my leg. She never called back.

I learned another lesson that day, and my trip to the South became a life's maxim.

Maxim: Do not be quick to judge; do not be quick to lose your judgment.