From Desire To Purpose…A Dreamer’s Journey

‘Celebrating Our Sons In The Sun”

Renée Dugué is pictured as a toddler with her father, Gerard Leo Dugué Sr. (deceased), and celebrating her birthday (May ‘21) with her father, Harold A. Baudy Jr. (top left), along with her maternal and paternal Grandfathers, Uncle, Cousins, her children’s Fathers, and Significant Others. An LMT based in Houston, TX, her healing practice provides in-person and virtual services. Visit to connect and learn more about her personal philosophy of healing through helping, and to support her WALK4WATER Campaign.

Renée Dugué Co-Founder Reborn and Rising

How apropos is it this year that we celebrate Juneteenth as the sun, which exudes masculine energy, is rising at its highest, and then Father’s Day on the first day of summer, also the longest day of the year? Moving into The Age of Aquarius with Mother Earth’s femininity flowing, let’s enjoy the age’s first Summer Solstice by basking and recharging in the healing rays of the sun. Get outside, breathe in the fresh air, soak up the world’s best vitamin D, and get your melanin popping, while giving honor to all of our Sons, Brothers, Uncles, and Fathers. Just as we could not exist without the sun, we would not be if it were not for the village of men that raised and shaped us into who we are today.

As I write from Houston, and you read wherever you are, if your roots run from The 504, I know you feel me when I say there’s no place like home or a man like one from New Orleans. Cut from a different cloth, our men are truly a rare breed. We come from men who knew how to go out and get it, then come home with it, and give that bacon to women who made miracles in those cast iron pots. Working that voodoo, they served up that good food to the men who framed our definitions of a man and wore spit-shined shoes. Our first loves and superheroes smelled like Old Spice mixed with sweet tobacco smoke wafting from pipes; no snails or puppy dog tails, just everything nice.

I was blessed to have two Daddies, who taught me that men provide and protect, with actions that speak louder than words. When walking in public, my Daddies made sure to hold my hand and position themselves nearest the street to keep me safe. They instructed me to never open the passenger door. I was to wait for it to be opened for me after it was determined safe to. My experiences with them combined to verse me well across the spectrum of understanding what moves a man. Love. From them I learned that men grow from boys, first loving their mothers, trusting them blindly, to freely giving all of themselves to a woman who values and cares for him, keeping his heart safe from harm, the way his mother’s love kept him warm. A woman’s love fuels him; the lack of is his kryptonite. The most sought after to vilify and dehumanize, prior to and still since June 19, 1865, our men are targets and systematically deprived of the human source of his strength. But just like our hair, they defy gravity and all the odds stacked against them, in skin energized with each new sunrise. Our men rise.

As we celebrate jubilantly, let’s honor all our men. Generations of Kings, forever immortal, vibrating melanated masculine energy, exhibiting sought-after superhuman abilities to endure, survive, and thrive. Nurtured by The San with grace and mercy, their seeds sown will rise and blossom forever. Be reminded that we are only here because our ancestors made a choice to be free from this plane’s constraints, knowing Our Creator will not fail our faithfulness. Let us be encouraged to love each other unfailingly. We are all we got.

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