Sheréa VéJauan

A Mommy Like You!

Every night before my two young girls get ready for bed, we spend time enjoying their favorite books. Although my goal is to keep it to one favorite, the girls always end up choosing five or six. One night, my oldest daughter selected the book “When I Grow Up” to be included in the volumes of children’s stories we would enjoy that evening.

“When I Grow Up” had lots of cute pictures to keep kids interested and highlighted enough high profile careers to impress even the most eager-to-see-their-kids-be-successful parents. “Great choice,” I thought, as my mind danced at the thought of how much potential my daughter must have to already be planning her profession at the tender age of four.

I read that book with more excitement than I ever mustered for Dr. Seuss. “You can become a female firefighter, a police officer, or a doctor. Wow! How great you would be if you achieved that!” I exclaimed to my girls. Big on making our marathon reading sessions interactive and wanting to make sure that my daughters understood, I asked my oldest which one of these great people she would like to be when she grew up.

Puzzled, my daughter looked at the book and then back up at me and replied “But mommy, where are you? I wanna be a mommy like you.”

Although grateful for her insight, the weight of what my daughter just said landed heavily on my heart. Had I really just convinced my daughter that the people in the story were not only great, but also so much greater than me? That all the other professions were something that would make her important, but being a mom was a choice that would lead her to insignificance?

After my girls were tucked in, I went to my own bed and used my pillow as a Kleenex to soak up my tears. My daughter made me realize that no matter what other career choices you make, the choice to also be a mother was a worthwhile calling, even if the only bonuses and raises you receive are comments like this from your children.

This poem is dedicated to all moms – full time moms, single moms, married moms, hardworking moms, and stay at home moms. Moms who let go of some personal dreams or goals to raise their children, moms who quit school because of their children, moms who went to school at night. Moms who stopped working after their kids were born, moms who worked harder after their kids were born.

There are many opportunities for women. Your job as a mom may not reward you with a physical check every Friday, but your occupation is great, your job is needed, and it could never be filled by anyone else.

realizing this I began to write……..

 

A Mommy Like You

I was reading a book to my daughter one night,

About growing up and all the choices of great people she could be.

A police officer, a waitress, a principal

A manager, and even a star on TV,

“Hey, you could be a doctor

And save the world from disease,

You could be a teacher

And teach children their ABC’s,

You could be a motivational speaker

And lift up others when they’re down,

You could be a musician

And compose beautiful arrangements of sound,

You can be an actress and perform in plays and movies

Entertaining audiences, now wouldn’t that be groovy?”

“You could be a ballerina

And dance all over the world,

You could be a famous football player

And they’ll say, ‘Hey, Is that a girl?’

You could be the first female President of the United States

You can be an astronaut and travel into outer space.”

“Now Sweetie, I know there are a lot of choices,

But you have a long while before you must choose”

And she said, “Mommy, I know exactly what I want to be”

“I want to be a Great Mommy, Just Like You!”

 

Copyright ©2003 Sheréa VéJauan ..

 

About: Based on the popular poem of the same name that has been featured in newspapers, magazines and website journals across America, “A Mommy Like You” combines the award winning production of Michael Washington with the smooth poetic inflections of VeJauan, “A Mommy Like You” builds on the success of the buzz created by the “Mommy Like You” greeting card – and takes it a step further. “We wanted to create something for people to give to their mother’s that lasts beyond mother’s day,” said VeJauan. “Flower’s and dining out is nice, but music lasts forever.”

About Sherea VeJauan Sherea VeJauan is a published author, vocalist, and poet who has received awards for her songwriting, vocal, and spoken word abilities. A member of ASCAP, the Christian Writer’s Guild, and the Gospel Music Association, Sherea has worked with two-time Grammy Nominee and Stellar Award winner Kenny Smith. For more information, visit http:// vejauan.com or to purchase your copy of ” A Mommy Like You”, please visit click here….

Sheréa VéJauan is also the author of “Realistically Speaking: Speaking What’s Real. . . Keeping What’s Holy”Get your copy today! http://ow.ly/4UadV

My Hair by @ShereaVeJauan

My Hair

In our fashion and looks conscious society, hair has the ability to stir up many emotions. We have all claimed at one time or another to being the victim of a ‘bad hair day’ – for which the state of our tresses ends up being the scapegoat for everything that goes wrong. However, when we walk out of the beauty shop freshly hot-combed, relaxed, locked, or twisted, you can’t tell us nothing, and all is right with the world.

But has someone ever accosted you because of your hair? Maybe they just wanted to admire its diverse styling abilities, maybe they thought you needed some advice on what was appropriate for your hair texture, or maybe they wanted to inquire about your heritage based on the lack of kinks lining the nape of your neck.

It is true that our hair doesn’t betray our heritage – and often vocalizes our roots before we even open our mouths to discuss them. But for children, who may not know or care that their great-great-grandfather on their mother’s side was part Cherokee, the questions they get about the texture of their hair can be unwelcome.

There is no one image of blackness. The African-American community is represented by all shades, all textures, and all personalities. So the next time you don’t feel like explaining the condition of your crowning glory, just tell them “Check out my hair. These roots define my roots!”

 

My hair, my hair

Oh, How I love my hair!

 

Don’t you dare, don’t you dare

Try to change my hair!

 

My hair represents truth, strength, and journeys

Celebrations and triumphs, yet many adversities -

 

Let me describe my hair to you…

 

My hair is wild like my hips,

My hair is soft like my lips.

My hair has been through plantations and picking cotton,

My hair represents the past, my ancestors that were forgotten.

 

My hair has not voted and has been seated at the back of the bus,

My hair has been mixed, a victim of slavery’s lust.

 

Why don’t you relax?

It’s not me that needs straightening out…

This hair represents diversity,

And being ‘Nappy’ is what it’s about!

 

Don’t try to tame it,

Cause you think it’s too strong.

Don’t try to control it,

Cause you think it’s too long.

 

As long as I live I’ll never be afraid to wear

The true texture of my

Beautiful

Black

Hair.

 

Be proud of your hair,

Be “Proud of your Hair-i-tage”

Because you “Hair” is your Heritage

 

written by  Sheréa VéJauan, author of “Realistically Speaking: Speaking What’s Real. . . Keeping What’s Holy”Get your copy today! http://ow.ly/4UadV

 

Eternal Love by @shereavejauan

Recently, I had the opportunity to speak at Halo’s 10^th Annual Black Marriage Day Celebration. After I spoke, I received many requests for a copy of the poem. I just finished editing it last night and packaged it up in a booklet format that can be printed. There is also a space to write notes and/or scriptures.

As most of you know, this November, my husband Brian and I will celebrate our twenty-first wedding anniversary.  However, in 1997, we separated for about eight months. That was by far the worst thing – and also the best thing – that ever happened to our marriage.  It was during that time that I really understood that we will never have it all together, but together, we can have it all.

 

So when we reunited and re-committed ourselves, I made some adjustments to how I would do things from that day forward.

You can download the full story at http://www.scribd.com/doc/87211779/EternalLove-March2012

About: Sheréa VéJauan is the author of “Realistically Speaking: Speaking What’s Real. . . Keeping What’s Holy”Get your copy today! http://ow.ly/4UadV

Eternal Love!

About: Sheréa VéJauan is the author of “Realistically Speaking: Speaking What’s Real. . . Keeping What’s Holy”Get your copy today! http://ow.ly/4UadV

Just Pray! by @shereavejauan

Just Pray!

 

Don’t walk around and pace the floor

Don’t raise your voice and slam the door

Don’t say that you can’t take no more

 

Just pray!

 

Don’t have a fit, then fall out and scream

Don’t let the enemy steal your dream

Don’t try to figure out what the world means

Just pray!

Just pray!

Just pray!

pray without ceasing - 1 Thessalonians 5:17

©2003 Sheréa VéJauan

Sheréa VéJauan is a Published Author and Poet
.

Feel free to email @ sherea@vejauan.com or write to P.O. Box 3566 Cerritos, CA 90703

 

 

One Woman Show by @shereavejauan

One Woman Show

Have you ever felt inadequate in the face of other people’s talents and gifts?  You may have definite skills to bring to the table, but when you look around at what everyone else has to offer, you feel your talent pales in comparison.

I was inspired to write this piece after I received a call from Jediael, the head of a local performance poetry ministry.   He was putting together a poetry concert and he wanted me to be the headliner.  I had never heard of a poetry concert – but I had seen the type of poetry that Jediael and the rest of the poets in the ministry performed.

And it was nothing like mine.  Theirs usually included dramatic inflections, varied tones of voice, movement, and music.   As he told me about the last concert, and how he had all of these ‘bomb poets’ who were ‘off the chain’ and brought the anointing, I couldn’t help but feel like he may have had the wrong number.

My initial thoughts we’re centered on what I had to offer.  “I’m just a poet, and a plain poet at that.  Maybe he thinks I’m somebody else- I have plain poetry, I don’t move, and I don’t have any music,” I sulked.

I started mentally going through my poems to find the perfect piece.  (The perfect piece being one that didn’t make me stand out too much from everyone else). God soon interrupted my pity party, and spoke clearly to me about the situation.

“I haven’t called you to do what other poets are doing.  I called you to just be you,” He clarified.

Feeling assured that God had created my uniqueness as a poet for a reason, I relaxed and sat down to reflect on what poem He wanted me to present for the event.

So I wrote this piece for that evening, and I dedicated it to all the poets and anyone else who ever felt that their gift may not be enough

ONE WOMAN SHOW?

 

I’m glad you came to see me tonight,

Thanks for coming to my show.

I was so excited

When I saw you coming through the door

 

I sent emails to all my friends,

In hopes they would reply.

I know there is plenty you could be doing

On this Sunday night.

 

I copied flyers and sent out mailers

Cause it’s just the right thing to do.

All of this activity

Because I wanted to share some rhymes with you.

 

Buying tickets in advance

Just to come see little ol’ me

I know you want to hear me sing,

Even recite some poetry.

 

I’m sure glad you could make it

I know you were wondering what Id wear,

Would I wear a full head weave this time?

Or just decide to do my own hair?

 

Wow, I’m kinda nervous,

Because this is the big day.

The day I perform for you,

Hope I picked the right piece to say

 

I thought I’d bring it like Poetri,

With an amusing twist that’s light.

Or maybe I’ll go back like The Last Poets,

We can all get revolutionary tonight.

 

I tried to get up some energy,

To bring it like Maura Gale,

But confidence ain’t my middle name

(But when I bring it, I do bring it well)

 

I tried to bring it like my husband,

Now that dude B. Sheldon  is deep.

If I would have brought it like my Grandma

I would have put you all to sleep.

 

I was thinking about Dr. Ingram,

So maybe I’ll give you some history

“Holla back, Africa!”

Or even a piece like ‘The Legacy’

 

But as God continued to talk last night,

I decided to bring you plain old me

 

As I went through my poems, books, and poetry cards

Trying to find the perfect piece for you,

I thought

“Wow, this is hard!”

 

Then it hit me

This is not a show for you,

I’m just a vessel to get God’s word through!

 

So it doesn’t matter about the style of my hair,

Or the type of outfit I decided to wear

 

I can’t rack my brain,

To find the ideal piece,

But I can fast and pray,

For God’s power to be released.

 

What matters is the light

I bring with me,

What matters is when God

Anoints this poetry.

 

What matters is my vow of Christianity

To be a faithful servant

To my God who died for me

 

So I decided to bring you the God in me,

And just let him have his way.

I decided to pray for you on the way over here,

So at the next concert you’ll have something to say.

 

I decided to lift mine eyes to him,

For through him is where my blessings flow.

I decided to give my gift back to him,

And not worry about the next venue or show.

 

I want you to see me as God sees me,

Cause he loves me very much.

I want you know how I depend on his love,

And I long daily for his touch.

 

I want you know that God opened this window,

So my gift would make room for me.

So I have to continue to open my mouth,

And not worry if you don’t like my style of poetry.

 

I may not write the rhymes like others,

Or groove to poetry beats.

But there is one thing I know how to do,

And that’s to kneel at Jesus’ feet.

 

I’m glad you came to see me tonight,

Thanks for coming to my show.

But I have to inform you,

I’m not allowed to perform for folks no more.

 

Now I play to an audience of one,

So God, this show is for you.

Are you pleased with my performance?

Was I obedient in what you asked me to do?

 

See God, there’s no other star for me,

You have the lead role in this play.

I will always have the best supporting role,

Until my dying day.

 

There is no other director for me,

You set the stage, you bring the light.

There’s no other protection for me,

You encouraged me through the rough nights.

 

So this right here is a one woman show,

With an audience of only one.

And I hope that God was pleased with me,

But I’m still glad you decided to come.

©2003 Sheréa VéJauan

Sheréa VéJauan is a Published Author and Poet
.

Feel free to email @ sherea@vejauan.com or write to P.O. Box 3566 Cerritos, CA 90703