One Mom and the World

brazen family

This dream is one of deeply rooted passion and love for humanity. This is about changing lives and holding onto hope.

Courtney Henslee has been in herbology for 20 years, a mother for 17 years, a student always, and has been called a witch since she was young– a good witch, of course. She’s been reading nutrition and herb books like they were novels since she was 19 years old, birthed three kids at home, raised them all with natural methods and no western medicine (except that time Zia ripped poison ivy out of the ground and had it in her mouth and eyes- steroids are approproate sometimes!). She produced and hosted a natural parenting/feminist radio show for 3.5 years on one of the biggest listener owned station in the United States.

She was the local herb doctor in Houston and Austin among her friends and always had the right things in the cabinet for what ailed the community. If you didn’t have the money to buy, she delivered it to you at no charge. Health is wealth, and people living paycheck to paycheck without insurance don’t have time to waste when it comes to getting back on their feet. Courtney’s roots in social justice never fail to show themselves when she is looking someone else’s need in the face.

Courtney started making her own skin care products and never thought to sell any of them, but just gave them away to friends who had skin issues.

Courtney’s Website Here

mask face

“Even being a super-hippie feminist, getting older started to get to me when I hit 30. I can tell everyone else that wrinkles are beauty and to love all they’ve been given, but here I was secretly buying $50 eye creams and stressing out about what would happen in 10 more years. I made this weird green powdered stuff to wash my face with and I never thought anyone would want to pay for it. But they did! The first week I went online with it, I brought in $1,000 to fund moving me and my girls to Colorado. ”

The dream has kept on and Courtney opened a real online store and has focused on that for 3 years now. But now, now it’s time to open shop and make a home for Brazen Bee in a place that is known as the witch capitol of Colorado. It just makes sense.  Manitou Springs is where Courtney gets her spring water for several of her products, and thousand of people visit this tiny mountain town each week. This means a high exposure for Brazen Bee and success for Courtney and her children.


Youngest Daughter taking her mom’s business seriously ;-)

Please donate to this next step in creating a business off the grid of greed.  As Courtney says, “When you are making purchases , take a pause and ask yourself if you know anyone who makes this. Or ask your friends if they know anyone.

Then you’re not giving your money to a black hole of economics. You are directly feeding and clothing and housing someone. DIRECTLY. When you stop at a farmer’s market, an art show, buy directly from another human online- you are taking that bit of money out of The System and putting it in the rotation of humanity, you’re taking it off Wall Street and putting it on your street.”

Brazen Bee is a whole-plant, whole-life philosophy. It is not only a purely natural skin care company that refuses to use extracted single chemicals from plants, but also creates formulations that have healed issues that even dermotologists had given up on. Courtney simply does not quit… ever. She is known for her tenacity when it comes to fixing problems and has worked with some clients for months until the perfect formula is found. “This is a case where OCD and perfectionism really work for the good of humanity! When someone contacts me with an issue, I simply can’t stop thinking about it until I know I am actively helping. I have to have an improvement and what I want is to cure it.”

Get your internel wallet out. Put $10 in the pot for this radical woman, get a package deal with some heartfelt skincare that actually has the results it says it will, pass this around, lets put her in a shop!!!!!

Gay Colors: Why are we not together?


This is, indeed, a momentous time for our country. Let us not forget that our Gay Agenda should refuse to leave anyone behind. I said it yesterday, and I will try to be the voice of conscience again.

Black and Brown bodied people are still in a huge struggle. Black and brown queer people even more so. Black and brown transgender people even *more* so. Many people have attempted to liken the LGBTQ struggle to the civil rights movement in this country. Is is not the same. While I can see it can be beneficial to find a connecting point, we, as a minority group, have slammed and forsaken the very people who started our march toward equality. It was not white gay men with money who threw things at police for harassing them. It was trans women and low income queens who began the brave rise that we celebrate as PRIDE every year.

They showed us all a kind of fortitude and willingness to fight that the gay community had wished for up until that moment. The civil rights movement did not forsake their roots, did not leave MLK or Sojourner Truth or Nina Simone or Malcom X behind. Their words and actions were integral. We, however, snatched the action up and left the activists behind in our quest for equality. The beginning of the marriage equality movement, as an actual movement, purposefully left out the trans community for a long time because we decided that to bring the societally “least” acceptable among us meant the rest of us would not get what we wanted.

This is absolutely equivalent to white women’s suffrage specifically leaving black women’s vote behind because they didn’t want to struggle *that* hard for suffrage. This is equivalent to someone standing in front of a bullet for you and you forgetting their name.

We have apologies to make. I have apologies to make for my people both on a scale of being a white activist and an LGBTQ activist, for the things my movements have done. But we have GOT TO CHANGE the *way* in which equality for *anything* is sought.  We have got to both pay homage and let our peers and children not forget where we began. Our movement began in bars and cafes in late night hours where we were relegated to be most especially if our gender was questionable. The most horrifically marginalized among us were the bravest ones. Those of us who did not want to rock the boat because we could pass through our lives in just enough comfort did not get this bus moving.

And now we have obtained a right that has many many implications far outside of marriage. These rights will assist us lessening outright discrimination, in letting us hold hands with less fear, in moving forward with our lives with a bit more security. In that “more” of security, please turn your awareness to the fact that suicide rates are highest amongst our trans community and even higher in the black and brown queer community. Why? Because a minority of a minority is an extremely dangerous emotional place to be in this country. How do we eradicate *that*? I don’t know that I know, but the discussion needs to be started, wisdom needs to be sought from the people who are experiencing, and it all needs to be taken very seriously.

We’ve taken up a cause and we won, but we won with a white face across 99% of every marriage photo in the media. Why? Do you think there are fewer black gay people? No. But why are they not out celebrating in the same numbers that we are? Our movement is extremely white-washed and extremely cis-gendered washed right now. We need to better understand the struggle of those who could be standing beside us. But why would someone stand beside us when we seem to refuse to represent them? Seem to refuse to acknowledge that we are a vastly monochrome movement.

I am not forwarding any directive here, but I am asking us to at least give commemoration to the Stonewall and Compton riots that set us on the footing we just gained. I am asking to make concerted effort to especially end racism in our community.  Even at my age, I grew up in the gay community where lesbians and gays didn’t consort with or respect each other. Lesbians felt left aside by gay men and we were ostracized from many bars and felt an even deeper level of stereotypes and shame. For lesbians are the first level of a minority (women) of a minority (lesbian).  We started having the conversation around why the hell we couldn’t fight *together* just 15 years ago. We started to finally put our heads and hearts together and look where we got. But shit, look, we *still* left huge parts of our community behind.

So stop it. Stop trying to be mainstream to get by or get more. Be braver, be more reverent of our roots, be more open hearted to the trials of those of us who even deeper in despair. Take someone’s hand and start a conversation, be meek of your own misunderstandings and ignorance. It’s a tough road to hoe to recognize you’ve done something wrong when something so right just happened. But hell if I want to continue to perpetuate the mainstream. I am not mainstream.

You are not mainstream, so fuck it, be all out, y’all. Please. For the lives and hearts that were left behind. It’s like seeing your friends play in the street with joy and you’re still in your house scared because they didn’t think about your access and their privilege. It’s heartbreaking. Stop breaking hearts and let’s work on healing even deeper than we imagined. Let’s work on our community and show those bastards in charge that we actually do poop rainbows and glitter because we are willing to work on the hard stuff.

When you wake up realizing you need $1,000

This life throws
Vomits at us
Undoes safety pins
Pokes us with them
Mows down
The grass we planted
Lights fires
That destroy forests we love

We feel better after we throw up
Acupuncture is good for you
Grass regrows
Fires make a nutrient rich soil


I want to lay all over you like it were nothing
Strewn, my arms
over slopes of skin
like it were nothing
more than my common ground
i want to be like simply roots
grown, my legs
between your earthen legs
like it were mysterious facts
that we grew cells near each other
until we became inseparable

2:20 am
i awake. fell asleep writing
these poetry lines in my head at 10:29
and they knock me back awake
i lay beside you
tasting ink in my saliva
feeling sheets beneath us like
paper blank aching for lines


am in dark
laying and relaying and setting and resetting
of all constellations
over high points
where light
kisses moments on your skin
must be stars
and there must be a map of you
in the sky
i will find it
i lay and relay
constellations over you in the dark
of my room


You invaded my dreams
of last night
I awoke crying
on beautiful breasts
Full of guilt to be having
You were everywhere
flaunting yourself in my face
At family gatherings
at streets unknown
I told you how you had hurt me
and you stared blankly
kept talking.

I am exhausted with your
Was exhausted for trying
to make you happy
Exhausted for not fitting
into the threading of selfishness
Exhausted for weeping on the floor
before you begging
for small attentions
Why how. Unfathamable.
This pain should be gone.
I have love in my life.
And you not seeing clearly.

Not cleaning up messes.
The story of us.
That’s it.
You. Not. Ever. Cleaning up messes.

Exacerbating them with blindness.
I cannot afford to buy you glasses.
None fit the metal threading
Around your heart.

My belief in the importance of historical data is waning. That two people should build great buildings of love and hope and rocking chairs. Of libraries and debates. Of memory and knowing and triumph. Of tenderness interlaced with struggle.

But rape of the heart is the simple drop-sound of all those things let go from fingers and the falling is as slow as a feather. The sound so difficult to hear, but so loud to my ears. The taking. Away. Sound. The sound of disregard. Is so quiet. And I am wishing for clanks and bangings of enormous metal on metal. The sounds of buildings being demolished. The warning beep of backwards bulldozers.

But it is light as a feather and the slow-free fall is aching me.

The slowest race

Is not forever
In steel toed boots and rags
It is the most temporary place
The slowest race
Unforgiven graces
Where visages lift weights
And hands procure metal grates

I sigh
Coming nigh to the edge
Of a particular pledge
Where street signs lead masses
To kindergarten classes

Option B

Morning tension
My mind pulls my skin taught
Rotting food in the back of the fridge
Like beliefs I once had about you
Meals that I lovingly made
Breaking down with bacterial propagation
Unrecognizable. You are.
I slam doors to my words
Around you
Convince myself there is nothing to say
When really thereistoomuch
But I am no longer speaking to the person I once knew
Or the person you puppeteered yourself to be

Spring flowers lillies tulips irises things I don’t know names of
Show their sweet sex in my yard
Paperwhites look at me lovingly
They have transformed soil and light
Into images of beauty

This world makes us capable
Of succumbing to degradation
Or building from the unseen
I circle option B
And move on

Courtney Henslee-Kresha

38 year old mother of three daughters. Courtney is witty, truthful, daring, and sexy. She now resides in Denver, Colorado. Her youth was spent in both Houston and the Texas Hill Country. This lends her raw Texas appeal alongside intense intelligence. For three years, she produced and hosted a popular show on KPFT called WholeMother where her following ranged from young alternative mothers to cowboys looking for wit and a mothering voice. From street smart to rural smart, she drives like a maniac and writes with a passion.

The Days Roll By

November 2015
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