Melange Lavonne

I remember being little and watching my grandmother battle breast cancer. She lived with my parents the last few months of her life. Many nights I would have conversations and just enjoy her company. After months of her diagnoses, I one day went to the doctor for my annual physical before entering the 7th grade. What they found next would change my life forever. A tumor was located near my thyroid and I was diagnosed with having Hodgkin’s disease, stage A cancer. I went through a year of Chemo-Therapy and Radiation. I remember vividly watching my friends play ball through the window on the cul-de-sac I lived on. They would run up to the window and say “watch this” as they kicked the ball hard. Or put their hands on the glass against mine and make faces to make me laugh. You see, I wasn’t allowed outside, and if I did, I had to wear a mask and gloves. A year passed and my Cancer was in remission. I went right in the 8th grade. I felt bout of place, Like I didn’t fit in; I was a scrawny kid and partially bald. I went from a silky golden red headed girl who always got complimented on her long hair to a dark brown coarse short haired insecure girl. The chemo had changed the texture, the length, and the compliments. I went through Junior High with my head held down and never made eye contact or talked. Kids use to call me mute because they never heard me speak.

During this time my parents got a divorce and my grandmother passed away. I ended up moving to my dads who moved up North to play basketball in Sacramento. My Father, the Black Republican who would help campaign for Reagan by going door to door and posting campaign signs as I helped him when I was smaller. He is a Bush supporter and has his PhD in Psychology, so needless to say I lived in a very interesting household. I had no idea how to play or what the rules involved. I remember the first try-outs they gave me the ball to dribble down the court. I caught the ball and ran. The teammates who made the team the year prior all started laughing at me. I was embarrassed and went home and cried and told my dad I am never going to go back. He told me I am not a quitter, and he was right. I then practiced in the rain, and made basketball an addiction. Four years later I received a full scholarship to Dillard University in New Orleans.

That summer of 96 was my graduation. I couldn’t walk with my cap and gown because the coach of the University said I either get my ass on a plane now or pass up my scholarship, because I needed to be there for their summer training. For summer training I conditioned and got along well with my teammates. I admired my assistant coach because she was the one who was ultimately responsible for deciding if I was worthy of the scholarship or not. We would always talk after practice. I loved her advice and besides I didn’t have any family close. The head coach who was in her late 50’s maybe early 60’s who called a team meeting with all the players. I will never forget my coaches exact words. "I don’t want any nonsense on my court or off. I don’t want to hear about you girls hooking up with other girls, we don’t want any dikes on the team". I sunk in my seat, I felt like she was talking directly to me. And she was, because after the meeting she told me to stay. She pulled up a desk next to mine and she tells me that they have been through my dorm and found a letter to a girl from high school. She says I’m giving you two options. You can either get psychiatric help for your homosexuality or leave and lose your scholarship. I wasn’t out to my parents at the time and I was terrified. But I knew I didn’t need help for a disease that didn’t exist. I left.

I remember only one player saw me off and wished me well to the airport, only one. As I sat in the airport I felt angry and hurt, depressed, crushed. A lady sits down next to me. She’s from a church rival. It’s a group of 20-30 people waiting for the same flight. She turns to me and sees I am upset, and tells me that God loves me regardless of what others think. I didn’t know this woman, but her words made sense at that point in my life. Her husband owned a Christian radio station and for about 5 years they mailed me Cd’s. I moved on with my life after that and got more serious about hip-hop. I’ve been through the “change your image because sex sells” in the music industry, I’ve met with Hollywood producers who’s only intention was sex. I decided that I wasn’t willing to compromise my lyrics or my beliefs for who I was and what I stood for.
Right now I am dealing with my HMO on not giving me a referral for a type of cancer that is has reportedly 22 cases in the entire world. I congratulate myself, I am the twenty-third case. Since I have no knowledge nor does Kaiser, and my referral is $1500 just to have a sit down consultation with an outside source, I aim to research and find out more about various organizations who could tel