If I knew back then what I knew now... it would be a much shorter and less interesting life. We learn through experience, not being given the answers.
What does it mean to be black for goodness sakes? I was thoroughly exhausted with the being the representation for others asking the question. Sick of the media trying to define it for me and confused on how any other Black adult felt about the topic at hand.I won’t lie to you dear reader, this post is a rewrite. Ironically the original post has been lost somewhere in the ether and for the better.
Originally when I stirred restlessly on the idea of black culture and community I was writing the article 'A Field of Dreams' At the same time I found myself surrounding by women (my roommates) who were dignified in their culture as proud Hispanic women. Classes I had at the time were themed around race and ethics.
I stepped into this unknowing of how it changes you by the end. Like a child, naïve to outside forces acting on you because you aren’t the first defense to handle it. That is how I can equate my first year of college, padded and joyful. Parents give the money they can spare and everything you need to be on your way. The best year is your first year because it’s a trial run and by the end of the second semester my parents tossed me out the window to figure it out on my own and I’ve never flown before then. You can never really be ready for what you’ve never experienced so anyone you asked for advice for how to handle this first, can only account for the time they spent in their specific isolated village of learning.
Leaving 2017 and the crippling semester that followed behind, I have encountered some magical realizations. My exploration of the colorful New Orleans lived up to the hype, even in December. My transformation to evolve into the ultimate form of myself is long term but progressive. While I’m putting a pause on my higher education for the semester, I’m not lacking in things to be learned.