Been thinking…you know…thinking is good for the soul…depending on one’s view of the soul of course. Read an interesting, eh, read a very antagonistic article about black women and their portrayal in the media as gold diggers. Thought the points were cogent, unfortunately, I found the delivery a little off putting.
It made me think about my own presentations online. I’m getting older and for the most part, I’ve never really been an idiot’s idiot. Always kept a certain calm about myself. Even through the most foolish and detrimental times, I was capable of rational reasoning. And of course, I’ve sort of been afforded a certain blessing throughout the course of my earth bound existence. I’ve always been able to communicate and a thirst for knowledge really helped out a lot. But I’m thinking that I’ve reached a serious turning point in all of this breathing and cell multiplication.
I have never really hated anyone other than myself. I’ve done a lot of tangible damage, but what I realize is that I really only found myself as the aggressor when money was extremely funny or I was too young to know I had been peer pressured. All of my battles have either been with people who attacked me first or myself. Something I think that is quite unique to the human is this desire to just end it all. A great question was posed to me today, am I courageous in the face of death because I fear life?
And I really had to think hard on that one.
I’ve achieved what most haven’t. I mean, come on now, there is a going stat that says only 30% of the total US population has a degree. Hell, I got one under the severest of conditions. It has made me a little arrogant on some days, but mostly my position on what can be achieved has changed. Ten years ago I blamed white people for rain ruining my day. These day I blame myself for there not being enough shade. I could teach an ant how to be more accountable for their actions.
We have lost our ability to find a locus of control within self. And by we, please don’t think I mean just American Blacks. Hell, my audience went from brothers with doo-rags and gang flags in their pocket to white professionals with six-figure careers a long time ago. And that can be intimidating to face. They keep telling me I fear myself. And I agree. I have owned life in such a way that I know damn well what is in my control. And some days, I allow that fear of success to deter what could be an extremely easy lifestyle.
I despise easy speculation. Unfortunately, that is the business of the scientist. In my own way, some how, I’ve found myself on that terrain. I love to belittle myself. It is a talent I developed as a child attempting to be manipulative. As all manipulations must one day find their end among the blacklisted, I too have found my old skills an albatross around my neck. Step by step, little thing by little thing…somehow I’ve managed to be this great thinker. I am no fool, I was always this. And that is why I take great strides to debunk this situation of media influence that many of us find ourselves swayed by.
I find myself oscillating from discussions of economic and political intrigue, to discussing why a young man should not walk outside his home with pajamas on below his buttocks. With the same dialectical prowess, I have to be persuasive in both conversations. In one my credibility is on the line, in the other…possibly my life. However, in each instance, I realize more and more how much I want to do this again. I don’t fear death, but I no longer fear life either. This is the place that we have to bring young American Black males.
I’ve walk through fires of hell. I’ve seen the limestone of the devil’s palace. I’ve survived it. I’ve walked through these pearly gates, and I have been dangerously honest with the gods of men. I have lain my mind and my life out as exhibit Z for those who chose to know what survival really looks like. My life has been a testament to buoyancy. But I realize, my life hasn’t even begun yet. And it far time for me to enjoy living, in the same manner that I have enjoyed chasing death.