Chin check...

Getting the shit scared out of you + a joyful celebration = a big case of numbness

On my way home from work yesterday, my life flashed before my eyes. I was crawling through traffic on 580, when all of a sudden a tire from the outbound lane hopped over the guard rail into the lane I was in. All of a sudden, everything began to happen in slow motion… tire spinning out of control… me thinking “oh shit, what am I gonna do?!?! Why won’t that car to my right get the hell out of my way!!!” Tire bouncing and spinning… “that shit is gettin’ hella close!” I close my eyes and veer a little. The tire was a hair away from hitting me dead in the driver’s side windshield, but some how barely cleared my car. I kid you not… the damn thing was so close it left tire dust on my driver side windows. I pinch myself to see if I was dreaming and to check if I was alive, I do a check of my car, and a check of the folks behind me. I don’t think my heart began to beat again until I got home.
Shifting gears and a few hours later, my professor through a party for our class to end the semester. Still kinda reeling from earlier, I wasn’t exactly in party mode. I had to hurry and check those feelings in the back of my head for a bit. This party was actually what I needed. All semester long, and my cohort folks will concur, this semester was hell and a half… but we survived! It was fun to grub, sing (or attempt to), and dance all night long. I even had an impromptu battle with my professor’s hubby… that shit was sick! As the evening went on, I started feeling a lil melancholy… we only have about a year left in our program, a year before we part ways, a year before the band of 19 folks that managed to form one, breaks off into its little individual pieces again… kinda like Megazord from Power Rangers. I guess the idea of time running out is so scary and jarring because we actually all like each other… there is a respect and a genuine, sincere care and interest in one another… no bullshit, no shortcuts… all reality. At the end of the night, our professor gave us bound copies of the trainings that we created this semester, each with a personal note… how dope is that? I swear, these folks are all the best. I’ll never forget you guys… especially if one of y’all work for NIH (National Health Institute) and I have to apply for a grant or somethin’… hehe.
Today I had a couple of convos with folks about fake people. How in due time, these folks that feel they need to shovel you bullshit to get your attention, trust, affection, money, etc. Or just how people only go for face value… the flawless aesthetics, the glam and the glitz… and neglect those that shine more so from the inside than the outer shell. I can say there are very few people in my life that are genuine… but in the end, I suppose we don’t need a whole lot of folks that are that way in our lives… we need to interact with the bullshit folks to remind us that we are still alive, to keep us on our toes… kinda like spare tires that bounce in our paths.
Have a safe and happy holiday weekend… especially on the road.

Set Trippin'...

A few weeks ago, I got into a discussion/disagreement with a relative of mine. My mom is dope. She is so proud. She was telling him how I went to Cal and how I was working towards a masters in public health. My mom usually likes to pass this info off to people to show her pride – but not to get what this relative gave back. Our convo first started off talking about advancing in education and such (really positive stuff). Then some how the tide turned to where he was throwing all this backhanded comments about the institution I graduated from. What the feezy??? He started talking about how he hates to hear people complain about their experience at Cal (i.e. the various ‘isms’ experienced, highly competitive environment and whatnot, etc.). How he knew this one girl that went to UCB and how her experience was hell, but he gave a shit about her because she deserved everything she got – in other words, all the bullshit she experienced was well deserved and that’s what she gets for deciding to go there. All through this convo, he kept saying how he was proud to have gone to an historically Black college and that everyone should experience that. During this convo, my head was doing back flips – ranging from what the fuck is he talking about, to maybe he has a point, to I wish he would shut the hell up and get out of my face. I told him, I don’t regret my experience at UCB at all… of course it was punctuated with typical “isms” bullshit… I mean my first day on campus was highlighted by a counselor telling me I didn’t deserve to be there (that was a joy); to a friend of mine getting into a shouting match with some guy that told her she was taking his brother’s spot. I mean even today, crap still happens… like how only 30 Black folks got admitted last Fall… frickin’ 30!!! If anything, all of that made me stronger. It has prepped me for the school of life so to speak… as here, you can’t run and tell the dean someone is being all shitty to you. The stuff that you encounter through life is in your face. It’s real and you better have sturdy mental, emotional and spiritual armor to handle it.
During this chat, what kept flipping through my head is that this relative and I were in different places for the same reason. Historically Black colleges developed because of the various social inequalities that prevented Black folks from going to institutions of higher education. The same whirlwind pushed many to fight for opportunities in these existing institutions of higher education. It’s weird, the same things that make us proud of each other and support one another in our community, are the same reasons why we hate and shoot down one another – a form of intellectual genocide if you ask me.
Sometimes, I feel like I just can’t win. Like when I get into these dumb ass convos, I feel like I’m talking to a wall. I feel like I’m torn between two worlds at times – my inner-city, East Oakland, Southern roots and my uber-academic, super-professionalism. On one hand, having to prove my Blackness, and on another, proving I deserve to be where I’m at or where I am destined to go. But both sides telling anyone that wants to give me shit for being who I am to kiss my butt! Arggg… blood pressure starting to rise again. Anybody go through stuff like this to? Holler back if ya hear me.