Don’t mess with Jayquain or Taniquequala or Shaqueta because they my play cousins and don’t no one mess with my play cousins!
Does that sound a little familiar? Okay maybe not the names but, do you remember when you were growing up and you had a friend that you called your play cousin, because they were more like family. They really felt like a sister or brother but saying they were your cousin was more believable or acceptable to other people? So the name play cousin kinda stuck. With a play cousin no one could break your bond. Ride or die! You were together forever and did everything together.
Some of us didn’t have play cousins we had other people in our lives. Maybe a mean school coach who always knocked you into the right direction with tough love. You were scared of that coach but today as you look back you are grateful. Or maybe you had an older aunt, uncle or pastor who was always right on time with what you needed to hear? Maybe your best friends Mom or Dad was always there when you thought your parents didn’t understand? Your best friends Mom or Dad gave you a chance to be you but, stepped in, in a way that resonated with you allowing you to hear differently than what you heard from your own parents. Or you had an older next door neighbor or grandparent who meant the world to you? The easiness in their age and wisdom guided you. They didn’t say much but what they said was so powerful and unquestionable because they had traveled down many roads multiple times.
We make and create our own families. Play cousins and all. We create our own mold so we can receive what we need and what we are wanting. I don’t think we realize this until time has passed and we’ve lost contact with that person, love one or the elder person that touched our lives has passed on to their next journey. Or we see the same type of thing forming with our own kids tempting us to remember and pull out pictures from the past. It’s like looking at a snapshot of our history through our kids.
I remember growing up and being no older than maybe five or six years old when I met three little girls. They lived two houses down on my street. I only have one older brother so it was natural for me throughout my childhood to want more siblings. Well I got three and they were all like my sisters. They were my sisters. We did almost everything together on the weekends. I couldn’t get up early enough to go outside to go play with them. We’d be outside playing as early as nine or ten o’clock in the morning underneath the shaded tree next door until it was dark outside. I’d bring my boom box and my latest New Edition and Rockwell cassettes. Yes, I said cassette, not 8-track. We would make up dance routines, skate (with the iron like silver wheels), ride bikes, Double Dutch, Chinese jump rope, walk around the block, play dolls and just hang out doing what young girls do outside. We played hard. There wasn’t any snack-time breaks like today’s kids. When we were thirsty we drank from the water hose and there was nothing wrong with that. Today we are so paranoid. But back then there was an ease. Kids had the room to be themselves and the freedom to play outside for hours. Our parents knew and could depend on the village to look after us if for a second they were not watching.
As I got close to my teenage years I always liked when our mothers let me and my sisters walk to the store. The grocery store was only a five-minute walk from our house. If we walked through a short alley way. Our parents always told us not to take the short alley but we did anyway. Once we got the approval to go to the store we were excited but there was some hair combing in order. My girlfriend’s mother always washed and put fresh cornrows in their hair on Sunday night before school on Monday so their hair was always in need of a little touch up on Saturday. The old cornrows had been through an entire week of hard playing. I’m a hair person so I loved combing hair. It was my chance to be big sister. One at a time I combed their hair in my bedroom. They had what I called that good braiding hair. So any style I put it in, it stayed. I would brush and pull their edges tight and when I finished they were looking cute. Before we headed out the door I always let my mother or father know that we were leaving. Momma always gave me extra money for me and my sisters and to pick up a loaf of bread or some fruit. The freedom of going somewhere without our parents and taking care of each other and laughing all the way there about nothing was great. The time I spent with my sisters was important. Those are the moments I will never forget. The memories flood into my mind like it was yesterday.
Over time there were other sisters that came into my life. Life like my home girl Tameka in Detroit. We lived in the same dorm and had apartment together when we were new Spartans in college. My play sister Tameka and I always had fun. The simple things made us giggle. I remember one time we put our quarters together to go down to what was then called in the Galley in our dorm. The Galley was the student hangout spot, it had pool tables, lounging chairs and couches. The Galley also had all kinds of snack foods to eat after dinner hours. We used our quarters to get ice cream and fresh made cookies. We dug up that money like our life depended on it and it was worth it because the student employee on most days gave us extra ice cream. Bonus! We laughed and enjoyed our moment all the way back to our dorm room. When we moved out of the dorm and into an apartment we didn’t have a car so we rode our bikes to the grocery store. We packed our groceries in our back packs. We rode with our bikes weighed down with bags full of groceries hanging from the handle bars. It was hard but you’ll do anything to survive in college especially if you are hungry.
Today, I have a couple of home girls. They are like sisters. We call ourselves Suburb Moms. We are all trying to do the same thing. Be a good person, wife and mother to our families and maintain who we are at the same time. When you spend time with your sisters it’s great knowing you are going through the same thing and the most important part is that we are experiencing things together. We laugh because we understand what each of us is going through and sometimes we don’t but that’s okay because listening and time is worth more than diamonds and gold. That’s what makes time spent together so much fun. We can be ourselves and that’s enough.
So to all my play cousins, sisters, brothers, momma’s, daddy’s, aunts and uncles, the village who have taught me along this journey. Thank you! Thank you for being you and letting me be me. I am truly grateful.
© by Allura Eshmun