Here's a message we all need to hear.
Monday, March 30, 2015
The Church
I was raised Catholic.
I . . .
Went to mass every Sunday.
Helped my Mom clean the church each week.
Searched out churches to attend in college.
And I was . . .
Married in the Catholic Church.
Soon after, being the dutiful wife that I was, I followed my husband in the Charismatic Movement, and started to attend nondenominational churches as we moved from place to place while in the military.
As his military career was coming to an end, Frank decided to attend a bible seminary in Oklahoma, intent on becoming a pastor.
Now I was never too keen on that idea, and God knew I cussed way too much to be considered pastor's wife material. So, I was relieved when it was clear that would not happen.
After this, Frank got a job in San Francisco and we settled in Sacramento, where we would spend more than twenty years.
He was knee deep into all things "church." I realize now this was his way of fitting in the world, but it was isolating and off-putting to those of us closest to him.
This era was also wrought with some of the most painful, hurtful, spiteful times in my life that were caused, in large part, by the Christians in my world.
To say I was disillusioned would be an understatement.
So, I left the church and everyone in it.
I walked away and didn't look back.
I was angry, bitter, and resentful.
I was done with the hypocrisy of the church and the people who represented it.
Even when Ben was fighting for his life in the hospital after his horrific accident, a chaplain came by and I absolutely lit into him. I didn't want to hear a word he had to say.
Of course, I know now how wrong that was. This man was only trying to help, but I couldn't see past the pain that Christianity represented.
Life continued, and . . .
I was principal of a poor school. There was several churches in the neighborhood who helped us. One in particular was so kind and generous, and the people so warm and helpful. On occasions, I was invited to the church to talk about an upcoming event, or to thank them for something they had already done, and I enjoyed those times.
So, every now and then, I'd attend a service there.
Then I decided it would be nice to hear a rocking' choir, so I went to a black church down the street from this one.
By the time I left Sacramento, I was attending this one on a fairly regular basis.
But . . .
I could never fully commit. Each time I went, I had one foot in the door, and the other one headed toward the exit.
One wrong move. One wrong thing said, one perceived slight, and I would have been outta there.
Nothing happened, so I continued down this path.
Now that I've been away from the US for three plus years, I've attended church only a handful of times, and yet I'm stronger in my faith than I've ever been in my life.
With the technological advances, I'm able to listen to podcast sermons that have been, and continue to be, rewarding and edifying.
I've gotten over the resentment and hostility toward the church folks back in Sac. The older I get, the more I realize that for the most part, people are doing the best they can. I don't believe that most people wake up to do others harm. Mostly it happens out of ignorance or good intentions gone bad.
This may be a naive way of thinking, but it is the mindset I choose to have.
So my journey has gone from the ritualistic canons of the Catholic Church, to the bombastic blowhards of the Charismatic Movement, to the peaceful, fulfilling contentment of my current state.
And now . . .
I can say with confidence, I'm truly experiencing a peace that surpasses all understanding.
I . . .
Went to mass every Sunday.
Helped my Mom clean the church each week.
Searched out churches to attend in college.
And I was . . .
Married in the Catholic Church.
Soon after, being the dutiful wife that I was, I followed my husband in the Charismatic Movement, and started to attend nondenominational churches as we moved from place to place while in the military.
As his military career was coming to an end, Frank decided to attend a bible seminary in Oklahoma, intent on becoming a pastor.
Now I was never too keen on that idea, and God knew I cussed way too much to be considered pastor's wife material. So, I was relieved when it was clear that would not happen.
After this, Frank got a job in San Francisco and we settled in Sacramento, where we would spend more than twenty years.
He was knee deep into all things "church." I realize now this was his way of fitting in the world, but it was isolating and off-putting to those of us closest to him.
This era was also wrought with some of the most painful, hurtful, spiteful times in my life that were caused, in large part, by the Christians in my world.
To say I was disillusioned would be an understatement.
So, I left the church and everyone in it.
I walked away and didn't look back.
I was angry, bitter, and resentful.
I was done with the hypocrisy of the church and the people who represented it.
Even when Ben was fighting for his life in the hospital after his horrific accident, a chaplain came by and I absolutely lit into him. I didn't want to hear a word he had to say.
Of course, I know now how wrong that was. This man was only trying to help, but I couldn't see past the pain that Christianity represented.
Life continued, and . . .
I was principal of a poor school. There was several churches in the neighborhood who helped us. One in particular was so kind and generous, and the people so warm and helpful. On occasions, I was invited to the church to talk about an upcoming event, or to thank them for something they had already done, and I enjoyed those times.
So, every now and then, I'd attend a service there.
Then I decided it would be nice to hear a rocking' choir, so I went to a black church down the street from this one.
By the time I left Sacramento, I was attending this one on a fairly regular basis.
But . . .
I could never fully commit. Each time I went, I had one foot in the door, and the other one headed toward the exit.
One wrong move. One wrong thing said, one perceived slight, and I would have been outta there.
Nothing happened, so I continued down this path.
Now that I've been away from the US for three plus years, I've attended church only a handful of times, and yet I'm stronger in my faith than I've ever been in my life.
With the technological advances, I'm able to listen to podcast sermons that have been, and continue to be, rewarding and edifying.
I've gotten over the resentment and hostility toward the church folks back in Sac. The older I get, the more I realize that for the most part, people are doing the best they can. I don't believe that most people wake up to do others harm. Mostly it happens out of ignorance or good intentions gone bad.
This may be a naive way of thinking, but it is the mindset I choose to have.
So my journey has gone from the ritualistic canons of the Catholic Church, to the bombastic blowhards of the Charismatic Movement, to the peaceful, fulfilling contentment of my current state.
And now . . .
I can say with confidence, I'm truly experiencing a peace that surpasses all understanding.
Saturday, March 28, 2015
Trying to Right a Wrong
This article is about the lead prosecutor in a death penalty case, where the accused was found guilty and spent decades on death row.
New evidence lead to the defendant's release from prison in 2014.
The prosecutor is taking a stand in this man's defense now, trying to make sure he is compensated for time served. Of course, this begs the question of how do you determine what a life is worth?
Two quotes that stand out:
“Glenn Ford deserves every penny owed to him under the compensation statute. This case is another example of the arbitrariness of the death penalty. I now realize, all too painfully, that as a young 33-year-old prosecutor, I was not capable of making a decision that could have led to the killing of another human being.” A.M. STROUD
How totally wrong was I.
I speak only for me and no one else.
I apologize to Glenn Ford for all the misery I have caused him and his family.
I apologize to the family of Mr. Rozeman for giving them the false hope of some closure.
I apologize to the members of the jury for not having all of the story that should have been disclosed to them.
I apologize to the court in not having been more diligent in my duty to ensure that proper disclosures of any exculpatory evidence had been provided to the defense.
http://www.shreveporttimes.com/longform/opinion/readers/2015/03/20/lead-prosecutor-offers-apology-in-the-case-of-exonerated-death-row-inmate-glenn-ford/25049063/
New evidence lead to the defendant's release from prison in 2014.
The prosecutor is taking a stand in this man's defense now, trying to make sure he is compensated for time served. Of course, this begs the question of how do you determine what a life is worth?
Two quotes that stand out:
“Glenn Ford deserves every penny owed to him under the compensation statute. This case is another example of the arbitrariness of the death penalty. I now realize, all too painfully, that as a young 33-year-old prosecutor, I was not capable of making a decision that could have led to the killing of another human being.” A.M. STROUD
How totally wrong was I.
I speak only for me and no one else.
I apologize to Glenn Ford for all the misery I have caused him and his family.
I apologize to the family of Mr. Rozeman for giving them the false hope of some closure.
I apologize to the members of the jury for not having all of the story that should have been disclosed to them.
I apologize to the court in not having been more diligent in my duty to ensure that proper disclosures of any exculpatory evidence had been provided to the defense.
http://www.shreveporttimes.com/longform/opinion/readers/2015/03/20/lead-prosecutor-offers-apology-in-the-case-of-exonerated-death-row-inmate-glenn-ford/25049063/
Friday, March 27, 2015
Remember Tower Records?
I used to love shopping there. Before iTunes, it was state-of-the-art because it was the only place you could listen to music before you bought it.
I also loved the eclectic folks who worked there, from the real old lady who wore hot pants year round, to the flaming gay guy who provided the best customer service.
Anyway, Colin Hanks, Tom's son, who was raised in Sacramento, remembers it too and has made a tribute documentary that premiered at SXSW recently.
This article about the movie is from Rolling Stones.
http://www.rollingstone.com/movies/features/the-rise-and-fall-of-tower-records-colin-hanks-on-his-tribute-doc-20150327?utm_source=newsletter&utm_content=daily&utm_campaign=032715_16&utm_medium=email&ea=ZmF5ZXNoYXJwZUBnbWFpbC5jb20=
I also loved the eclectic folks who worked there, from the real old lady who wore hot pants year round, to the flaming gay guy who provided the best customer service.
Anyway, Colin Hanks, Tom's son, who was raised in Sacramento, remembers it too and has made a tribute documentary that premiered at SXSW recently.
This article about the movie is from Rolling Stones.
http://www.rollingstone.com/movies/features/the-rise-and-fall-of-tower-records-colin-hanks-on-his-tribute-doc-20150327?utm_source=newsletter&utm_content=daily&utm_campaign=032715_16&utm_medium=email&ea=ZmF5ZXNoYXJwZUBnbWFpbC5jb20=
Thursday, March 26, 2015
Great App For Finding Kids' Books
"We Read Too!" is an app that is a wonderful resource for finding books from authors of color featuring characters of color.
https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/we-read-too/id908782619?mt=8
Read on!
https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/we-read-too/id908782619?mt=8
Read on!
Designing Better Schools
Ben shared this article on the state of education today and the many ways we're trying to use technology to address the social and political reasons for it's current state of affairs.
It's a long read, but quite interesting and worth the time.
https://www.jacobinmag.com/2015/03/education-technology-gates-erickson/
Three favorite quotes are below:
But one laptop per child can’t lift communities out of poverty, because technology is not an alternative to wealth redistribution from the top 1 percent to the bottom 99. There is a disconnect between what we imagine technology and education can do, and what they actually do.
The fact is, education is not a design problem with a technical solution. It is nothing like building a spaceship. It is a social and political project that the neoliberal imagination insists on innovating out of existence. The most significant challenges faced today in education are not natural obstacles to be overcome by increasing productivity — they are man-made struggles over how resources are allocated.
When people of color are taught to accept uncritically texts and histories that reinforce their marginalized position in society, they easily learn never to question their position.
It's a long read, but quite interesting and worth the time.
https://www.jacobinmag.com/2015/03/education-technology-gates-erickson/
Three favorite quotes are below:
But one laptop per child can’t lift communities out of poverty, because technology is not an alternative to wealth redistribution from the top 1 percent to the bottom 99. There is a disconnect between what we imagine technology and education can do, and what they actually do.
The fact is, education is not a design problem with a technical solution. It is nothing like building a spaceship. It is a social and political project that the neoliberal imagination insists on innovating out of existence. The most significant challenges faced today in education are not natural obstacles to be overcome by increasing productivity — they are man-made struggles over how resources are allocated.
When people of color are taught to accept uncritically texts and histories that reinforce their marginalized position in society, they easily learn never to question their position.
Another Dirty Old Man
Woody Allen represents the scum of the earth.
If any other man was in a relationship with his step-daughter, we would all scream FOUL.
Woody Allen does it and he's a creative genius, so he gets a pass?
He's a . . .
NASTY.
DIRTY.
LOWDOWN.
SCOUNDREL.
No amount of work/films/art can make up for his despicable behavior.
And let's not even talk about the very real accusations that he molested another daughter when she just a tike.
It makes me absolutely livid that this man is celebrated.
(Here's the link to the article that started me down this ranting path.
http://www.salon.com/2015/03/26/its_worse_than_just_woody_allen_middle_age_men_younger_women_and_the_true_horror_in_mariel_hemingways_new_disclosures/?source=newsletter)
You can rest assured that I stopped watching his movies, which I always thought were mediocre at best anyway, years ago.
Of course, if he were the only one, that would be bad enough, but he represents so many old, nasty men in powerful positions who use their power to pick up young, impressionable girls. And they are either too naive to understand what is happening, or they'll looking for an easy way up the ladder.
Either way, if "Faye's Justice" ruled the land, in this case, Woody Allen be hanging by his balls from a marquee in Times Square.
If any other man was in a relationship with his step-daughter, we would all scream FOUL.
Woody Allen does it and he's a creative genius, so he gets a pass?
He's a . . .
NASTY.
DIRTY.
LOWDOWN.
SCOUNDREL.
No amount of work/films/art can make up for his despicable behavior.
And let's not even talk about the very real accusations that he molested another daughter when she just a tike.
It makes me absolutely livid that this man is celebrated.
(Here's the link to the article that started me down this ranting path.
http://www.salon.com/2015/03/26/its_worse_than_just_woody_allen_middle_age_men_younger_women_and_the_true_horror_in_mariel_hemingways_new_disclosures/?source=newsletter)
You can rest assured that I stopped watching his movies, which I always thought were mediocre at best anyway, years ago.
Of course, if he were the only one, that would be bad enough, but he represents so many old, nasty men in powerful positions who use their power to pick up young, impressionable girls. And they are either too naive to understand what is happening, or they'll looking for an easy way up the ladder.
Either way, if "Faye's Justice" ruled the land, in this case, Woody Allen be hanging by his balls from a marquee in Times Square.
Justice in America
God knows our judicial system in America is flawed at best, especially when dealing with people who look like me.
But I've really come to appreciate it, flaws and all, after having a peek at the court system in a foreign land.
You never, ever, ever want to land in court outside of the US.
Everything you know about the law and the legal system gets thrown out of the window, and you're at the mercy of the courts in the local land, of which you will probably have no knowledge.
The good news here is that because justice is harsh and swift, crime is extremely low. The not so good news is if you're on the receiving end of it, things will not be pretty.
Lesson of the Day - when you're in another country, always remember you're a guest in their land, and like a guest in someone's home, remember to be on your best behavior.
But I've really come to appreciate it, flaws and all, after having a peek at the court system in a foreign land.
You never, ever, ever want to land in court outside of the US.
Everything you know about the law and the legal system gets thrown out of the window, and you're at the mercy of the courts in the local land, of which you will probably have no knowledge.
The good news here is that because justice is harsh and swift, crime is extremely low. The not so good news is if you're on the receiving end of it, things will not be pretty.
Lesson of the Day - when you're in another country, always remember you're a guest in their land, and like a guest in someone's home, remember to be on your best behavior.
The President and The Wire
Without a doubt, The Wire was one of the best television shows ever. The depiction of the war on drugs as seen from the people on the streets of Baltimore and law enforcement agencies trying to get a handle on it, was some of the most realistic and heart wrenching.
Each of the five seasons featured a different aspect of city life, but the common thread was the role of drug culture, and how in too many cases, dealing drugs was just a means of survival where there were few other opportunities for employment and upward mobility.
Season 4 was about the educational system as it followed four kids in high school who were trying to stay on the straight and narrow path, but were pulled in by the forces around them. It is by far, the most realistic view of inner city public schools ever portrayed in the media.
Below the creator of the show, David Simon, is in the White House, talking to President Obama about the frugality of the war on drugs and the consequences of massive incarceration of non-violent drug offenders.
Each of the five seasons featured a different aspect of city life, but the common thread was the role of drug culture, and how in too many cases, dealing drugs was just a means of survival where there were few other opportunities for employment and upward mobility.
Season 4 was about the educational system as it followed four kids in high school who were trying to stay on the straight and narrow path, but were pulled in by the forces around them. It is by far, the most realistic view of inner city public schools ever portrayed in the media.
Below the creator of the show, David Simon, is in the White House, talking to President Obama about the frugality of the war on drugs and the consequences of massive incarceration of non-violent drug offenders.
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Skin Tone in the Comics
This is a really interesting comic strip. It's coloring of characters was questioned as too dark.
https://thenib.com/lighten-up-4f7f96ca8a7e
https://thenib.com/lighten-up-4f7f96ca8a7e
Swim On Ladies!
From Th Root -
What Was That About Black People Not Being Able to Swim?
In a landmark finish, African-American women swept the top three spots in the freestyle at the NCAA championship.
Lia Neal; Simone Manuel; Natalie Hinds
MIRA/AFP/GETTY IMAGES; IAN MACNICOL/GETTY IMAGES; TWITTER
MIRA/AFP/GETTY IMAGES; IAN MACNICOL/GETTY IMAGES; TWITTER
I
It was not too long ago—in 1987—that the legendary racist rant by ex-Dodger Vice President Al Campanis on Nightline, then hosted by Ted Koppel, harshly and bluntly expressed what a large portion of America still felt about African Americans. Campanis said that blacks lacked the “necessities” to be managers or executives, pitchers and quarterbacks.
His most infamous quote came in defense of his absurd assertions. Campanis asked Koppel, “Why are black people not good swimmers?” Then Campanis answered his own question: “Because they don’t have the buoyancy.”
A flabbergasted and obviously agitated Koppel responded, “I’d say that it’s because they don’t have access to the country clubs and the pools.”
It wasn’t just that the remarks were foul, racially charged and outdated. Those comments by Campanis—a respected and powerful baseball executive who once roomed with Jackie Robinson when they were members of the barrier-breaking Dodgers organization—sparked a storm of criticism, particularly from the black community, and put Major League Baseball’s hiring practices under intense scrutiny.
Campanis was fired shortly afterward. Black swimmers have since proved their “buoyancy” and have more access to the country clubs and swimming pools than ever.
Similar to sports such as golf, ice-skating and gymnastics, swimming has long been considered by primitive minds to be an athletic endeavor that is an “unnatural” fit for African Americans. But with three African-American swimmers sweeping the podium in the 100-yard freestyle at the Women’s Division I NCAA Championship this past weekend (a feat recognized by the national governing body of swimming in the U.S. with a celebratory tweet), it’s clear that a swimming “blackout” is upon us.
Freshman phenom Simone Manuel of Stanford set an NCAA, American, U.S. Open, championship and pool record when she clocked a time of 46.09 in the women’s 100-yard freestyle.
Manuel’s Stanford teammate Lia Neal came in second with a time of 47.13.
Neal is no stranger to star-studded success. Raised in the Fort Greene section of New York City’s Brooklyn borough by her parents, Rome and Siu Neal—who are of African-American and Chinese-American descent respectively—she is already a pioneer for black women in swimming: Neal won a bronze medal in the 4x100 free relay at the 2012 Olympic Games in London.
Her being part of this landmark moment in NCAA swimming makes total sense.
The University of Florida’s Natalie Hinds swam a time of 47.24. Hinds reset her own school record in the event during competition.
Monday, March 23, 2015
We Could Learn a Lot From This Kid
From The Root -
Mo’Ne Davis Takes High Road, Asks That Player Who Called Her Awful Name Be Reinstated
The 13-year-old and her coach emailed Bloomsburg University’s president to ask that the school reconsider Joey Casselberry’s dismissal from the team.
Little League Baseball pitcher Mo’ne Davis reacts after she throws out the ceremonial first pitch before Game 4 of the 2014 World Series at AT&T Park Oct. 25, 2014, in San Francisco. KYLE TERADA-POOL/GETTY IMAGES
Over the weekend a Bloomsburg University of Pennsylvania baseball player took to Twitter to call 13-year-old Mo’ne Davis, the star pitcher who shook up the Little League tournament, a derogatory name.
“Disney is making a movie about Mo’ne Davis? WHAT A JOKE. That [s--t] got rocked by Nevada,” Joey Casselberry tweeted.
It didn’t take long for the university to announce that Casselberry had been booted from the team.
On Monday TMZ Sports reports that Mo’ne and her coach emailed the Bloomsburg University president and asked that Casselberry’s dismissal be reconsidered.
“While Bloomsburg says they respect Davis’ opinion and praise her for being incredibly mature about the situation—the school will NOT reinstate the baseball player,” TMZ Sports reports.
Sunday, March 22, 2015
A Blustery Day
At about 6:45 this morning, we experienced hurricane force winds that made it nearly impossible to walk outside.
I took the garbage outdoors at 6:40, and when I returned outside five minutes later to load my car, I couldn't get two steps past the door.
Imagine a field of salt that is being blown into you by an industrial size fan. Now imagine that fan is on full blast with "knocking you over" kind of force.
I'm not sure what was worse - the stinging of the sand hitting my face/body, for the wild winds pushing me back.
Things were so bad, I couldn't move. I just stood by the wall, hoping that the winds would calm down soon. One of my neighbors drove up and saw me struggling, and offered to take me to school.
What a blessing that was!
He broke with protocol by doing this.
Women are not supposed to be in cars with men who are not family.
Thankfully, he ignored that rule when he offered me the ride.
Soon after it began, the winds did indeed die down, but not before engulfing our school with sand galore in every room and in every nook and cranny. It was even foggy in the building, making this a real Winnie the Pooh Blustery Day.
I took the garbage outdoors at 6:40, and when I returned outside five minutes later to load my car, I couldn't get two steps past the door.
Imagine a field of salt that is being blown into you by an industrial size fan. Now imagine that fan is on full blast with "knocking you over" kind of force.
I'm not sure what was worse - the stinging of the sand hitting my face/body, for the wild winds pushing me back.
Things were so bad, I couldn't move. I just stood by the wall, hoping that the winds would calm down soon. One of my neighbors drove up and saw me struggling, and offered to take me to school.
What a blessing that was!
He broke with protocol by doing this.
Women are not supposed to be in cars with men who are not family.
Thankfully, he ignored that rule when he offered me the ride.
Soon after it began, the winds did indeed die down, but not before engulfing our school with sand galore in every room and in every nook and cranny. It was even foggy in the building, making this a real Winnie the Pooh Blustery Day.
Saturday, March 21, 2015
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Talk to Me Official Trailer #1 - Don Cheadle Movie (2007) HD
Cookie has been baking for a while. Check her out in this trailer below. This is one of my all-time favorite movies.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Overcoming Impossible Obstacle to Soar
This video is five minutes long.
Please take the time to watch this young woman who was born with no legs, overcome impossibly tough obstacles to become a champion gymnast.
And then, please pass it on. This girl's spunk needs to be shared with the world.
https://docs.google.com/file/d/0ByFUzo9KwryWWkRwUEw4bmZNaVk/view?sle=true
H/T Forrest
Please take the time to watch this young woman who was born with no legs, overcome impossibly tough obstacles to become a champion gymnast.
And then, please pass it on. This girl's spunk needs to be shared with the world.
https://docs.google.com/file/d/0ByFUzo9KwryWWkRwUEw4bmZNaVk/view?sle=true
H/T Forrest
Homesick
Today I longed for the US.
It doesn't happen much, but . . .
It started last weekend when I got a haircut.
My hair was shorter, but it was not what I wanted.
So today, I went to another salon, about an hour away.
And again, it's shorter, but it's still not what I wanted.
The problem is, almost everyone here has very long hair, so the ladies in the salons don't get any practice cutting short hair styles.
In desperation, I even went to a barber shop, but with the very distinct gender rules, the guy wouldn't give me the time of day.
Honestly, if I could, I'd be on the next flight out to Sacramento just to get a decent cut.
Yes, I miss my family and friends, but today I miss Willie Mae.
There is no one who cuts my hair better than her.
~~~~~~~~~~
I know.
I know.
A very recent post was about choosing to be happy.
Yes.
I see the irony in my whining.
And yes . . .
I will get over it . . .
Soon.
It doesn't happen much, but . . .
It started last weekend when I got a haircut.
My hair was shorter, but it was not what I wanted.
So today, I went to another salon, about an hour away.
And again, it's shorter, but it's still not what I wanted.
The problem is, almost everyone here has very long hair, so the ladies in the salons don't get any practice cutting short hair styles.
In desperation, I even went to a barber shop, but with the very distinct gender rules, the guy wouldn't give me the time of day.
Honestly, if I could, I'd be on the next flight out to Sacramento just to get a decent cut.
Yes, I miss my family and friends, but today I miss Willie Mae.
There is no one who cuts my hair better than her.
~~~~~~~~~~
I know.
I know.
A very recent post was about choosing to be happy.
Yes.
I see the irony in my whining.
And yes . . .
I will get over it . . .
Soon.
Monday, March 16, 2015
One Guy's Story
From Salon -
I was the black guy in a white frat
Nothing about the racist OU chant surprises me. I spent years ignoring white prejudice just to fit in
TOPICS: RACISM, LIFE STORIES, COLLEGE, FRATERNITIES, FRATERNITY LIFE, AFRICAN AMERICANS, MASCULINITY, TOXIC MASCULINITY, EDITOR'S PICKS, SAE, LIFE NEWS
A photo of the author, second from right
“There will never be a nigger in SAE!” chanted a bunch of Biebers from the dark side. The OU frat video released earlier this week shocked the nation. But not me. I never believed the lie of a post-racial America, so new heights of white shittiness don’t surprise me. Instead, my mind went to that kid who still longed to be the unwanted “nigger” in a fraternity where he’d be like Baldwin’s “fly in the buttermilk.” That black boy or girl who has no idea who the hell s/he is, who thinks that finding a home in places like the SAE house might offer some desperately needed sense of belonging. I write this in the hopes of reaching that lost black body floating adrift in the chaos of racial identity — just like I did for much of my life.
In the fall of 2003, I pledged a fraternity, the only chocolate member in the whole house. White kids trying to be black don’t count, of course. I was a blackout drunk, and I resolved long before setting foot on campus to surround myself with other blackouts, even if they were all white. Never mind that I was the first in my family to go to a proper university. Academia was the last thing on my mind. Fraternity culture gave me a place where I could indulge the way I wanted, without loved ones or teachers or longtime friends to slow me down. During orientation, I asked which houses hazed the worst and drank the hardest. It was nothing short of a drunk’s providence that landed me at 3 Frat Row.
In the house I settled on, the hazing was mental from the jump. Older guys seeking to humiliate me and 10 other strangers laughed when, after being told in a “lineup” to actually “Fuck the wall like I meant it!,” I asked said wall if “she” enjoyed my black cock. It was a stupid bit of levity in an otherwise out-of-control 10-week hazing process. (My hell week ended with someone losing the top half of a finger. The chapter has since been shut down.) I took a bleak sort of pride in making the house’s worst hazer laugh so hard he had to leave the room, but I couldn’t see my shucking and jiving for what it was. I signed up willingly for the puking and the push-ups and the fists through panes of glass and the destruction of property and the coke-fueled misery that led to my half-assed suicide attempt and the being shitty to women and all the clichés of being a “frat dawg.”
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