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African American Christian Coming of Age

“Mom?” Gianna peered into her mother’s study where she saw her working on what was probably her latest sermon. Her mother is a pastor at the First Methodist Church normally prepares sermons relating whatever is going on in the world with the Bible. No, really. She likened Jesus multiplying bread and fish to Gianna cookies with her younger sister and Mary Magdalene washing Jesus’s feet to her husband washing the car!

“Just a second Baby, mamma is working,” she cooed, holding up a well-manicured index finger.

”Baby?” Gianna thought. She was nearly sixteen and her mother insisted on referring to herself as “mamma“ and calling her five children “babies” when Tishi is the only sibling under 13!

“Mamma, can I go to Malanda’s sweet sixteen birthday party? You already know her parents and all that so you know I’m in good hands. It’ll just be me and some people from school, it’s all,” Gianna burst. She bit her lip in anticipation of her mother’s response. She tasted her raspberry chapstick.

“Who’s ’friends from school?’ That boy Treyshawn? The one who isn’t going to talk to my baby girl?” Gianna’s mother turned around in her chair, her comically long eyelashes batting. “I am not letting my daughter go out with boys,”

“Why can’t I go? I won’t talk to nobody and I wanna be there for Mal, she’s counting on me being there!” Gianna protested, waving her hands and feeling the weight of being the girl with the strict, religious mother.

“No. No way I’m letting you go when there’s boys around that I don’t like. That’s that.”

“Why? Why even if I put it on GOD that I won’t talk to nobody?” Gianna nervously twirled a corkscrew out of her luscious hair. She wanted to rip all of it out and smash her mother’s Bible in half.

“Because I said so. I’m the mother of this damn house and this isn’t going to be the time when I let you go and mess up on my watch!”

“Thanks. You’re such a goddamn good WARDEN!” Gianna shouted. She slammed the door and ran out of the house. She took out her cell and called Malanda.

“Guess who's About to be grounded.“ Gianna sighed.

“You?” Malanda squeaked.

“She thinks Trey is gonna be there and he’s gonna tie me up and get me pregnant and make me join one of those other Christian denominations, or worse, a Catholic Church,” Gianna giggled, thinking of her mother refusing to drive past the St. Mary’s on Fifth Street in case somebody tries to tell her about the Pope and his wondrous ways.

“But Treyshawn is a good guy, and doesn’t she know it’s all kids frI’m the class, most that she’s met?” Malanda’s disappointment was in her voice. Gianna could see her friend’s big brown eyes go watery, knowing her friend won’t be at her birthday because of her rebellious cousin, Treyshawn.

“Whatever that woman says, goes. Maybe if I told her we were studying for medical school, she would’ve let me come over but then she would make me do penance for lying and I don’t feel like reciting the Lord’s Prayer ten times a day for a week,” Gianna pulled her eyes, recalling a very real and insufferable punishment.

“I will save you a seat at the table and a slice of cake if she ever changes her mind. My mom can talk to her mom, right?” Malanda suggested.

“Your mom is non practicing. My mom doesn’t like people without a religion, she thinks they're ’lost‘ and ‘lazy’,”

Gianna heard Malanda sigh. “Oh,” Malanda said with a heavy heart. “I have to go...We can talk later, ok?”

Gianna took a deep breath. “Of course, Mal,”

The girls said goodbye and Gianna took a good look at the red and white house that stood before her. Her mother worked hard for her and Gianna knew she loved her but she wished that she could trust her daughter and let have fun. Gianna kept her faith and always got A’s and B’s in school, has never touched an illegal substance and goes to TWO services on Sunday. She was a good kid and she wants to fight for one night to spend with her friends.

Gianna marched back in the house and was king to start a conversation when her mom came out in the porch.

“Baby,” her mother started. “You know I worry. I was into smoking and drinking when I was your age. You know how I found myself and worked for the life I wanted. I was the one running round with boys on Friday nights when I should’ve been studying for the SAT. Then I met a preacher who helped me create my business, connect with God...I even met your father and had 5 beautiful children who make me proud everyday of my life. But understand, Gianna Joelle, you’re a good girl, a smart, beautiful and strong young woman with brain and strength I didn’t have and probably will never have at your age. I just want your life to be less difficult than mine was,” Gianna’s mother walked down the steps and brushed her daughter’s smooth, hazel cheek and nodded to her.

“Mamma, I know. I try my best for you and for me to say I’m thankful and I’m a good kid. I want to make you proud. But you should know that I love you and that I will be my own person. I can take care well on my own and ain’t about to throw away a pod thing. I just NEED you to trust me so I can go to a party for my best friend. Can you give me that chance to show you?” Gianna braced for impact. She was never this blunt and candid with her mother and didn’t know what to expect.

“Be home by 11 and make sure you call me when you about to leave. And no tank tops. Or short shorts. Wear comfortable shoes. Don’t let ANY boy-“

“So, that’s a yes?” Gianna interrupted, clenching her fists and grinning.

“Yes, Baby” her mother smiled.

“Oh thankyouthankyouthankyou!” Gianna jumped into a hug with her mother and laughed. Then it hit her.

“Why do I need to wear comfortable shoes?” Gianna queried.

“Because I said so. And you ALWAYS save your good shoes for Sunday’s,”

THE END

May 17, 2021 04:11

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