I am of 4 traditions that make it difficult for me to panic about the economy. First I am African American. I can't remember except for a few instances when most of us weren't in a recession. 2nd I was raised COGIC before prosperity theology. Back then a rich man getting to heaven was like a camel going through the eye of a needle. 3. I was a hustler. I was collecting soda water bottles, and selling The Dallas Express (Colored News Paper) starting in the 2nd grade. I bought cigarettes for 35 cents a pack and sold them for a nickel a piece in high school. I practiced pitching coins until I stayed paid behind the gym in high school. 4. I was a Panther. We took a dedication and belief and fed thousands of kids across the country, started an award winning school, and we didn't have a tear to cry.
Like my preacher daddy used to say, "Be encouraged". I was living in an area last week where the median income is 60K. I wasn't at that level but I had risen from being "po" all the way to "poor". Right now I am in gratitude to be living in my oldest sister's house in Dallas where the median income is 50 cents on a dollar for food stamps. Seriously, I would say 30k may be a generous estimate. We are taking care of each other. My sister will get $200 a month for the room. One of my nephews gets access to my car to go report to his P.O., buy groceries, and get around, in exchange for driving me every once in a while and putting the gas gauge where it was when he got the car, and not smoking or transporting alcohol. I gave my cousin my weight set (300 lb Olympic Barbell, and about 200 lbs of dumbbells). He is going to act as my trainer for me doing political education classes for his followers.
I don't see nothing but opportunity. The same economic system we had 40 years ago is back. Let's have rent parties and let Junior boy nem run into the cuts with our hush on them as long as they pay tithes to the local revolutionary groups, and pledge not to run out of the neighborhood with our stuff. Let's turn poison into medicine and lemons into lemonade.
by Akintunde Funso...
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