A Little Scratch
by Marcella Muhammad
While sitting listening to some music I realized that I have been on a surreal journey through life. I don’t know if anyone else has a soundtrack but if you do then you understand at least a portion of this post.
I can remember finding out I was adopted. I was about 4 or 5. I was sitting in the tub and my mother was sitting on the edge. I told her that I knew why I didn’t look like her or Daddad. My father is the shade of the perfect midnight and my mother’s shade can be found somewhere on the oceans most beautiful beach. So it made sense to me that when you mix a dark and a light you get a middle shade. That would be me — the perfect cup of coffee with cream.
The next day my mother put me on her lap and explained adoption. The words were not important. All I can really remember were the tears. She was bawling and I was crying because she was so upset. At the end of the conversation I felt alone. To this day it is the one thing I wish I never knew. I’m never going to search for the people that gave me up. What I remember vividly was that I spent days with this little transistor radio sing along to “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head” by BJ Thomas and “Reunited” by Peaches and Herb. I can still sing all of “Reunited”. At 4-ish I had no idea what the song meant it was just the perfect melody to me. No matter how cheesy it will forever be one of my favorite songs. This is when I learned music was the ultimate comforter.
Since I was an only child my mother always took me to my father’s brother’s house. Donna Summer’s “Bad Girl” was always on the radio. It was at the ripe old age of 7 that I learned I had the uncanny ability to pick and choose who I wanted in my family. It is a wonderful gift. I was sickly as a child and the doctor’s kept me on steroids for my allergies and asthma and to boot I was also extremely uncoordinated (some things you just never grow out of). We were all listening to the stereo and my older cousin was dancing around the living room with us little ones. I didn’t know I couldn’t dance back then, but children are cruel and they promptly told me how stupid I looked with my dad’s brother joining in on the fun. I am sure my eyes welled up but my older cousin quickly took my hand and taught me how to do the hustle. To this day I still can’t do it but “Bad Girl” is where I learned kindness and compassion in the midst of insensitivity. I also loved that you didn’t have to love or like people who treated you like shit. Today my family is a mixture of blood relatives and folks I love and who love me back. It is very exclusive and I choose very carefully.
The next clear memory was when I was about 8 and I got my first album — Stacy Lattisaw’s With You. This is when I discovered love. Now, let me be transparent I always knew that I was loved, but through this album I felt love. When Stacy sang “You Take Me to Heaven” I felt it in my toes and it was alright with me. Tom Browne had me “Funkin’ for Jamaica” and to this day if you hear me playing that song you know life is good!
I went to public elementary school and because of my city’s failed attempt at busing my home school was on the other side of town. So my mother used that same brother-in-law’s address so I could go to the school around the corner. Well, although convenient; I was the odd bird. My parents were older than the other parents so there was a generational gap that affected my wardrobe seriously. In addition, most of the kids who went to school with me lived in the projects and was on some form of public assistance. I had a father with an extremely good job even by today’s standards and a mother who was at home by choice. In addition my father has a car fetish so Momma had a new one every couple of years faithfully. Daddad didn’t drive her car — he had his own truck. In fairness back then his truck was used, but you all get what I’m saying. Needless to say most of the kids treated me pretty bad.
Then one day in 6th grade one of the boys cornered me and asked me if I had a pool or something to that sort. When I hemmed and hah’d they began teasing me calling me the stuck up rich girl. So I lied and let me tell you my imagination was always excellent. That just made things worse. They actually threatened to beat me up after school. So here I am the outsider… again. This went on for about a month when finally I decided to apologize and be honest about why I lied. I remember sitting in the back of the room talking to these kids and we found out we liked a lot of the same things. I told them that I was not stuck up and I wanted to be friends with them. Funny thing… they thought I was stuck up because my mother drove me and my previous attempts at acceptance were clumsy at best. I was socially clumsy because I was shy. I got a ride because I lived too far from the school to walk and we were lying so I could go to school with them.
Awhile later we were having a class talent show and Mrs. 3 babies (my very best Friend/Sister to this day) invited me to be in their dance group. When I told her I couldn’t dance she insisted that she would teach me and anything I couldn’t do she would show me how to keep the beat. We danced to Michael Jackson’s “Pretty Young Thing” and later during that same party we listened to Prince’s “Purple Rain” tape. To this day Thriller and Purple Rain remind me of acceptance, understanding and the importance of perception.
Now, I look back on my adult life and the loves let go; and the catalog of music that reminds me of those men. Anita Baker’s “I Love You Just Because” and “Love Saw It” by Babyface and Pebbles was the song of my first crush, and Surface’s “Can We Spend Some Time” being the song of the summer those years I “loved” a certain boy. Barrington Levy’s “Too Experienced” introduced to to the man that I gave the whole my heart to and Jaguar Wright’s “Same Shit Different Day Part II” got me through finally getting over him. Now I am rockin’ Conya Doss’ “So Fly”… the lyrics in that song are my aspiration; “he” just hasn’t showed up. I’ll let you know when he does.
I remember knowing I was saved; fully and totally knowing it like I know my name. Fred Hammond’s “Your Name is Jesus” is the music of salvation for me. Hearing my girl Lisa sing “Be Grateful” to this day makes me feel like Jesus sat down next to me! I don’t know who sings it originally and I don’t care because that is Lisa’s song…period. I remember hitting rock bottom with everything church related and Israel & New Breed singing “I’m Still Standing” that song is a ringtone on my phone now.
Who knows what song will next open my eyes or remind me of a pivotal life experience, but what ever comes next I face it with my three disk mega mix. I’m gonna love seeing where the next song fits in!
I loved to hear from you all. What song or songs take you back?
