I was raised by a single mother and grew up in public housing. The only people that were considered fearless or strong-willed were loan sharks and hustlers. As a black man that comes out of the U.S. it's safe to say that my existence is something to study. Around members of the black community I seen it's struggle and it's citizens running in circles of everlasting traumas. Among members of white America I was seen as this special can't do no wrong negro. Racism (as we are taught) never reared it's ugly head in my direction. Besides one encounter with police (July 4, 2013) the brutality that is displayed or cast upon by most precincts never put a bruise/or scar on my body. This could be due to my proper upbringing. This could also could be the level of privilege I have. Maybe it's through the grace of God. Just know that like Moses receiving the prophecy from the burning bush I did hear the cries of my people.
In December of 2014 I would attend my first rally. At this time Michael Brown and Eric Gardner were the two latest names added to the BLM (BlackLivesMatter) banner. "This is what democracy looks like" (and other chants) filled the air and one could smell freedom ringing in true. On a cousin play date I felt that something prosperous and lucrative was in store.
My 2015 Fall semester at BMCC would be one that I will never forget. I even name this semester after the Kendrick Lamar album To Pimp A Butterfly (2015). It was allegations that would cause me to be summoned into The Bronx Family Court that made me push myself pass limitations and circumstances. A book on any topic or subject was put on my to read list. I carried myself with assertion and confidence. My Christian beliefs were briefly replaced with The Autobiography of Malcolm X (1965) and Stokely Speaks (1971). An awakening of racism (White Supremacy) along with capitalism and Western Imperialism were well in effect. Harlem's subculture helped me feel comfortable in making this change. Living with an aunt I slept in a room that had a computer and a spare closet. I would also pray, read, and write in this room as well. After my first court date (November 6, 2015) I had to leave this apartment that was a fortress in disguise. Looking back I truly believe that If I was to have that type of environment of a household my college experience would've been much better.
It was late December of 2017 when I had to run a quick errand for my mother. Walking down a flight of steps I enter through a door that takes me to the first floor of my building. Knocking on a fellow tenant's apartment the door opens and the words that lashes out at me are "why you knocking on my door like that." This being the second time that this occur I decided to be the bigger person out of the ordeal. Once I finished asking this fellow tenant if so-and-so was home I walked away. From the back of me I hear footsteps following me. A minute pass when I heard a voice yelling and swearing at me. If one wants to look at as a David .vs. Goliath type of battle, than it's justified. Tired of the disrespect I turned around and threw the hardest punch I ever thrown in my life. A brawl broke out leading to me smiling for a mugshot and the two of us settling it in The Bronx Criminal Court. Sadly, a bond between myself and a person I knew since elementary had to end the way it did.
We are six months into the year 2020 and the world as we know it isn't the same as usual. Currently, people from all walks of life are outraged. All this outrage and anger sprung from the death of another unarmed black man. His name was George Floyd. He lived in the city of Minneapolis. A city that serves both black and white alike would go under flames under the guise of peaceful protest. From a perspective such as mine it's as though the death of George Floyd has been in vain. Rioting and looting in the name of justice for x y and z doesn't bring fourth change. Structure and organization does. Baltimore and Ferguson didn't teach us anything. It's all reactionary madness if you ask me.
Every living soul is born to make something great out of his/or herself. Whether one's born of peace or chaos. Although I would consider myself to be a vessel my life's journey (so far) stands as a testament of time. Our nation is in great need of something progressive, but concrete. Individuals from the left, right, and those who are on the side of truth need to stand together on basic principles. Beyond our politics, sexual orientation, social class, or region of residence we are all apart of the America fabric. Peace. Love. Unity. [6/7/2020]
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