Under the Sunset Series: Olivia Louise Dixon

Art By: Solomon Omogboye

Under the Sunset Series is a series of short stories that I write using artwork of Black women or girls as my prompt/inspiration.

I hated 2nd Thursdees out the month. Mama signed me up for etiquette class at Madame Marbury’s house. All’s I really wanted to do was race Jean Paul up and down Center Avenue. After I whooped his ass he'd pay me my $2.00 because ain't no race without a cash bet! Wit my money I'd get me a quarter water from the Deli and put the rest in my piggy bank. I always beat Jean Paul. He was slower than molasses. Fool tried to get me to race his cousin last summer. Cousin came all way up from Mississippi to race me. All week Jean Paul kept saying, "my cousin coming and he faster than Jessie Owens! He goin’ smoke you out your britches!” Whatever the hell that mean. I only raced for the money so I said, "your cousin gonna have to pay me double when I beat him since he ain’t from round here." "Aight, bet!" I took off running when I heard Rudy say “go!” Halfway down Center Jean Paul's cousin fell to the ground. Say he had on the wrong shoes. Say he tripped. Over his own feet? Man, it was a waste of my time! I could’ve been at the lake wit Daddy or picking figs off Ma June tree. I told Jean Paul he had to pay me $5.00 for wasting my summer day. "How your cousin wear Jesus sandals to a race anyway?"

At recess today Jean Paul stood up on the stump talking bout he let me win all those races cuz I’m a girl and his Nanny told him to be nice to girls. Say, “I’m tired of being nice,” and held up a crispy $5.00 bill. “Put up or shut up, Mighty Mouse!” I hated when he called me that! Besides, fool knew I couldn’t race today. He knew all the girls had to go to Madame Marbury’s house after school. I didn’t even have on the right clothes or shoes. Last month Madame Marbury made me stay after for 20 whole minutes to talk to me bout my “hygiene.” Say, don’t show up to her house no more with muddy shoes smelling like outside. I’d rather smell like outside than moth balls and Bengay that she tried to cover with Amber musk. Bengay smells so strong, makes my eyes water. I told Mama and she said, “be more intentional about how you look and more careful at recess next time that’s all.” I wanted to push Jean Paul off the stump but I knew if I did we’d start rumbling and I’d get dirty and have to hear Madame Marbury’s mouth. Mama would be disappointed in me too. So I went over to the other side to play Jacks with Cassie. 

“He stupid Livi don’t study him. Just mad cause he foot slow and book slow. I like your dress.” 

“Thank you.” 

Cassie was right. Too bad we couldn't be real friends. She was always nice to me but we just ain’t like the same things. She didn’t like to race, she always wore dresses, bow bows and frilly socks. I liked wearing sneakers and my fro. Today, I was intentional like Mama say to be. I pulled the flower dress Ma June bought me last Easter out the back of my closet. I put twisties in my hair by myself. No help from Mommy or my PMS big sister Dalia. There was only one green. I think Dalia took all the green twisties out the basket just to piss me off. Imma cut up her fashion magazines. She knows green is my favoritest color! I wore the Mary Janes Daddy got me and my frilly socks with O.L.D. stitched on them. O.L.D. do spell old but I'm only 10 in the 5th grade. O.L.D., thems my nitials. O is for Olivia, L is for Louise, and D is for Dixon. Olivia Louise Dixon. I love my name. Ma June stitched it with green thread. She know green’s my most favoritest color. I wasn’t gonna dirty it all up because of dirty ole Jean Paul either. After the bell rang Jean Paul bumped me in the hallway and I almost fell. I wanted to Joe Frazier his high yellow ass but I didn’t. I kept walking out the door with Cassie. 

When we got to Madame Marbury’s she looked me up and down and sniffed my neck. “Better” she said. Better? This ain't better, this is best! I did my best! What did this lady want from me? But I ain’t say it out loud. Mama would have a fit if I did. Daddy too. But I did have a turnip green attitude. Pretty to look at but nasty to taste. I sat down and put my elbows on her table and rested my chin in the palms of my hands. The other girls gasped. Cassie whispered, “Livi, your elbows!” I didn’t care. I was tired. Tired of it all! Madame Marbury came rushing over to the table and whacked it with her yardstick. 

"Madame Dixon get the encyclopedia, you owe me 10 minutes!" 

I rolled my eyes so hard, the left one started throbbing. 

"Make that 20 minutes Madame Dixon!" 

Whenever a girl would break one of Madame Marbury’s rules we’d have to walk back and forth in her parlor room with an encyclopedia on our head for 10 minutes. Elbows on the table and rolling my eyes got me double the time. I didn’t care. I’d rather be walking with an encyclopedia on my head for 20 minutes than sitting at the table playing with dusty old plates, knives, and forks with no food! I wish I could’ve walked the whole hour and a half we spent there. I watched the clock as Madame Marbury went on and on about what it means to be a "respectable young lady." I wondered why respectable meant we had to dress a certain way, walk a certain way,  and sit a certain way? Ma June told me to respect everybody no matter who they are. That make more sense to me than respecting a person by the way they look. As soon as the short hand was on 5 and the long was on 12, I hopped up and headed towards the door.

"Madame Dixon sit down! You have not been dismissed." 

One by one she called the other girls to be dismissed until I was the only girl left. 

"Adjust your behavior to match where you are Madame Dixon. This is not the swap meet. Carry yourself appropriately. And have someone do something to that hair! You are dismissed."

I got up annoyed. I wanted to ask her to take her wig off so I could see her real hair but I didn’t. That’s respectable. 

When I got outside Daddy was waiting by the car. Cassie was in the back seat. I was kind of glad we were giving her a ride. When I got in the car I told Daddy what Madame Marbury said. 

“She has some nerve when she doesn’t have any hair,” Cassie said from the back seat. 

Daddy laughed. 

"Let’s stop at the Deli to get Bomb Pops," Daddy said. "They always make you feel better."

We stopped at the light on the corner of Center and 4th and there was Jean Paul and his friends, throwing rocks at the telephone pole. Lame. I tried the slide down so he wouldn’t see me but before I could he yelled, “Mighty Mouse, you scared huh? Little girl scared to race a man!”

"A man?" Cassie yelled. "You ain’t no man. You think you a man cause you 12 years old in the 5th grade?" 

Even though Cassie didn't race and dressed like an American Girl doll, she still had heart. We had more in common than I thought. Daddy pulled over and got out. He popped the trunk, came over to the passenger’s side and opened my door. 

"Here," he handed me my sneakers. “Smoke ‘em!” 

I put on my sneakers and got out the car. 

"Show me the cash before I race you Jean Paul!" 

Jean Paul pulled out a $5.00 dollar bill. It wasn’t crispy no more but cash is cash and I don't race for free. 

"Alright. To the Deli and back." 

We lined up on the sidewalk next to the telephone pole. Cassie got out of the car and leaned on the front hood with Daddy. 

"You got this Livi!"

"On your mark, get set, go!" 

Rudy yelled go and off we went. 

I ran. Nah, I was flying. The air lifted my dress like parachute. I ran to the Deli and back and was drinking out of Daddy’s car water cup before Jean Paul even got back. His friends were laughing at him. 

“You embarrassing man!” Rudy said. 

Mad, Jean Paul threw the $5.00 bill on the ground. 

"Be respectable young man. Pick it up and hand it to the young lady," Daddy said. 

He did. 

We got back in the car and drove to Deli. 

"I can buy the Bomb Pops Daddy."

"Nope put it in your bank, I got it." 

Cassie and I sat in the car replaying the race while Daddy went in. 

He came back with 3 Bomb Pops and 3 quarter waters. The perfect victory snack. 

"Should we have these by the lake, young ladies? 

“Yes!” Me and Cassie yelled. 

Daddy pulled the car around to the lake and we watched the sunset. 

I guess 2nd Thursdees out the month ain’t too bad after all.

Excitement: "What Does That Even Mean?"

"How are you feeling?” 

“You excited?”

These are the two most common questions I get from folks when asked about my next chapter. Recently, one of my friends asked me, "are you excited," and  I took a long pause and asked, "what does that even mean?" I’m sure this is something I probably need to unpack in therapy but I don't know if I've ever been excited about next chapters. What I assume excitement feels like is how eager I am in anticipation of the new Ari Lennox album or when I see these IG chefs curate exquisite looking bowls of ramen. I equate excitement with how free I feel when I catch a flight or get a new passport stamp or how I've felt witnessing my friends get married, have children, and celebrate milestones. I haven't reached the peak of what "excitement" seemingly looks and feels like in this chapter of life yet but I am extremely proud of myself and emotionally grateful. I am also leery of the unknown. 

Recently, I went to a friend's gathering and they were talking about being excited about the fall season and how they couldn’t wait till October to go to haunted houses. Every time someone mentions a haunted house I immediately remember when I was young I went on a haunted hayride. It was dark and I rode on the hayride until it stopped in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. I got off of the hayride with the group and our guide told us that we'd have to walk through an enclosure of sorts to get back to where we came from. Of course as we were walking, there were people dressed up jumping out to scare us. It was dark and I was scared. I was unsure of where I was going and what was going to happen next and I freaked out. A person jumped out to scare me and I started screaming and swinging and ended up punching them in the face. The facility had to stop the entire haunted experience because of me. This is kind of what I am feeling today. I’m on the ride of my life and I’m ready. But I do not know where I am going and what is going to jump out at me. The unknown is scary and I am a person that finds comfort in knowing what happens next, at least in retrospect. I guess that’s why I stayed in the classroom for so long. I was safe even though I was unhappy. I knew all the players and I was an expert on how to play the game. I could navigate through being unappreciated and devalued. I had enough money to pay my bills and to create and produce artistic work. I had the summers off to rest and I'd repeat the yearly cycle of enduring a toxic work environment. Now that that’s over, I feel like I’m in physical therapy. Learning how to walk again, socialize again, lift my head up again, and trust people again. I no longer spend mornings crying in my car. I no longer feel alone and isolated. Life today feels great. I can breathe. But it also feels scary. 

That’s my truth. 

I am wholeheartedly an introvert who dreams and overthinks, who is used to doing things by herself, who has taught herself how to do much of her creative output, who struggles in silence and shares through prose, and who rarely asks for help and when I do I immediately try to figure out how to give back to the person who helped me. Today, I’m being asked what I need and people, outside of my family and friends, are rallying around me to help me. I’m not used to that. I get emotional just thinking about it. 

So there. 

That’s where I’m at with it. 

That’s how I feel. 

My inner most thoughts. 

Gratefulness takes precedence right now in my life. 

I’m working through the rest.

Bday Reflections: Welcoming Rêves en Couleur

Closing out my 38th chapter around the sun and stepping into chapter 39 was kind of out of body-ish. These chapters begin and end so fast. The last couple months of 38 I was struggling mentally. I'd been toiling with lingering self-doubt, teacher burnout, worrying about what’s next, and disappointed by things I hoped would’ve happened but hadn’t yet. When talking about anxiety/depression one of my favorite comedic personalities said, “it’s unfair” and I couldn't agree more. Things are most definitely moving and shifting in my life and I am beyond grateful yet, there are times this looming mental state decides to put a damper on my joy and it’s not as easy to get rid of as the suggestions to “be grateful” or “pray it away” imply. I’ve been working with my therapist to name it and not mask it by pretending to be ok, or sweeping it under the rug and placing “busyness” on top as means to ignore it. 

I called chapter 38 my Midas Year. I claimed at the beginning of chapter 38 that everything I touched in this year would turn to gold. That I would see the richness of my work and begin to benefit from it. 

It did happen. 

It really did happen. 

Here's a brief recap:

• I traveled with friends and family. Even went to Hawaii twice.
• I got accepted and successfully completed the Theater Producers of Color program. 
• I am currently a co-producer of the Off-Broadway summer revival of Kinky Boots. 
• I produced, directed, and edited a virtual reading of a pilot episode of a web series I wrote, FAT, Black Millennial. 
• I was asked to teach with Juilliard this summer.
• I up the anti a bit on my freelance graphic design work and secured a few paid gigs. 
• I performed at the Kennedy Center with the cast of Mortified DC/Baltimore to a sold out crowd. 
• I was interviewed on a couple of new media talk shows.
• I directed and edited a virtual production of Rainbow Children, Angel Babies, & Fruitless Fig Trees for the Rogue Theater Festival. 
• Currently, I’m in the interview process for a few other opportunities. 

It has indeed been a full chapter of Midas proportions! In spite of, I persisted and I did well.

Chapter 39, I am claiming more. I’m calling this year my rêves en couleur (dreams in color) year. I have so many dreams that I often see in black and white or sepia if my mind is feeling frisky. The full color seems to come with goosebumps and tears when the dream is realized. The goal I'm setting for myself this year, is to see my dreams in full color more often. Most importantly believe that I can have the desires of my heart. My dreams aren't "too big." I can achieve every dream and all my hard work and prayers are not in vain. 

When I turned 30 I asked a few of my friends at the time to come with me to New Orleans. 39 being the last year of my 30s I decided to go back to NOLA. Now most of you know I don't need a reason to hop a flight to NOLA but this time I really focused on me. The 30 year old woman who twerked on a couple randoms on Bourbon Street is a whole different woman. Now don't get it twisted you may get a chair twerk or two out of me if the cocktails are right and the clouds are high, but I have grown into a woman of deep retrospect, gratefulness, compassion and love. 

I have changed. 

I'm so glad I have changed. 

I am in love with the woman I have become and welcome the continued growth, blessings, and peace that will adorn my life in my newest chapter.

Nipsey was right, the marathon will continue and so will my work to realize my dreams.

Rêves en couleur.

A Big Island Spring Break

Teachers across the world understand the importance of Spring Break for us and our students. If your school is like the one where I currently work then you and your kiddos didn't have a day off in the month March. I call it, The Real March Madness. So on the Friday kicking off our Spring Break I ran out the door after dismissal and didn't look back.

Spring Break each year for me falls around Easter and my Nana's Birthday. On her 90th birthday I accompanied her, my mom, aunts and goddaughter to Ghana. This year for her 93rd birthday, I tagged along again with my Nana, mom, aunts, cousin Anne, and my goddaughter this time to Big Island, Hawaii. I was excited to get away, soak in the warm weather, swim in the ocean, eat copious amounts of pineapple Hawaiian shaved ice and drink hella cocktails. I had just been to Maui in September so heading back so soon was indeed a blessing. Traveling to Hawaii from DC takes about 10 hours. That's not the fun part for sure, but once you are there, you're definitely in paradise. Aloha felt different this time as we were greeted by my cousin Eugene who adorned us with leis and a sense of pride he could not hide. He has been living in Hawaii for over 15 years now and has never been visited by his immediate family...until now. Having his sister Anne, his aunt Lucille (Nana), and his cousins (my mom and aunts) visit him was a dream come true. You could visibly tell he was overcome with joy that we all were there.

Big Island is in fact a nickname for the largest of the 137 Hawaiian islands. There are rainforests, black sand beaches, volcanoes, waterfalls, vast landscapes, lava rock fields and so much more. I first had a chance to visit Big Island in 2015 and remember falling off a jet ski into the Pacific Ocean. I was ready to do it again. We stayed in Hilton Grand Vacation Club Condos. The condos were roomy and easy to call home for the week. Access to a bidet in the bathroom didn't hurt either. Luxury for the sake of being luxurious is a vibe that I want to consistently request that the universe gifts me. My ancestors demand I have this amount of sheer ease and fantastical living. Self-induced reparations. 

The next day we followed my cousin Eugene in our possessed Nissan Armada on a scenic tour of the island. Madame Nissan had an opinionated mind of her own. They don't call Big Island big for nothing. It took hours to get from one end of the island to the other. We stopped for burgers and I had a burger with grilled pineapple on it. Delicacy is a virtue, ok?  Eugene shared his anticipation of our arrival with his church family and we went to his church and fellowshipped with them. They welcomed us with open arms, fed us, prayed/prophesied over us, and gave us a monetary gift to help us with travel expenses while on the island. They are living examples of Christ. Romans 15 stewards. It always feels warm and humbling to encounter people who treat others as Christ would. Goosebumps. 

On the last day we visited Eugene's home which was about 2 hours away from the mainland. He lives in the rainforest area of the island. We were greeted by his wife and their resident duck. We were introduced to their friends one of whom they affectionately call, "The Coconut Man." He cut open several coconuts for us to drink from and they all had their own unique taste. The Coconut Man, an expert coconut sommelier, explained why each coconut had its unique taste. There was even a champagne tasting coconut ya'll! We ate a family style dinner and dessert. We prayed, sang, and had communion to celebrate The Passover.

Seeing the world no matter how near or far always pushes me to reflect on my life. On this trip I adored the time I got to spend at the beach, laughing at my aunties and mommy's loudness, holding my Nana's hand, listening to the childhood rants of my charismatic goddaughter, joking through absurd encounters and being free from the angst being a teacher causes me, if only for a week. From this trip I gained more of an appreciation of my extended family. The ones I may talk to less frequently and some not at all. We all have an uncle or cousin "so and so" who you go years without seeing. They too need our love, prayers, and positive energy. I also am thankful for the gift of compassion and grace. Grace definitely is a buzzword I feel people throw around without knowing its true meaning. Pardoning grace on ourselves and others is indeed a spiritual act. True grace without expectation requires a surrendering to God for assistance. Grace is a divine acquisition. I admittedly don't always want to ask God to guide me through the act of grace. Especially when I am upset, feel mistreated, or compassion fatigued. But I deserve the healing that comes from the power of grace. Asking God to intercede so that you may impart grace on yourself and others, following his lead, ignites collective healing. Who else can go to bat better for you other than the Most High? Ain't no grace more sufficient, so yes, it's a spiritual matter. Spiritual not religious. There's a stark difference, but that's another time another post.

I left Hawaii with stateside burdens lifted.

I left Hawaii grateful that my Nana has seen 93 years of life.

I left Hawaii appreciative of the generations of amazing Black women that make up my family.

I left Hawaii with a second wind to chase my dreams beyond every sunset.

I left Hawaii in First Class thanks to long lasting friendship.

I left Hawaii with chocolate covered pineapple and pineapple gummy bears.

I left Hawaii with joy overflowing.

I left Hawaii ready for the next traveling adventure with my family.