Being a leader was something I was accidentally born into, for two reasons. One, because my parents weren't exactly expecting to have another child on the way (as if anyone ever is), and two, because I am half black and expected to perform just as well as my “white” counterparts. That may come off somewhat offensive or suggestive now-a-days, but that is basically the jist of it. And there was a love-hate relationship with that of course. It meant I gelled my hair to the side to match the textbook “businessman cut”. And I dressed in the nicest hand-me-down collared shirts and shoes that my parents could afford. Which wasn’t very much even though my father worked countless hours day in and day out. My parents both young and fresh out of college with little to no financial stability to ease the burden of student loans... Money was tight, but they made it work, and I grew up through that. More importantly though, I grew up as an example and didn't even know it. At least, not at first.
When I was younger, I “acted black”. I just didn't really “look it”. I played sports with the other kids, ran alongside the fastest in gym class, and sometimes even didn't turn in my homework. I was a “cool kid”, if you will. I was still doing okay academically, but my teachers could tell I was doing the bare minimum, and wanted much more for me.
From 4th grade to the end of middle school I grew out of all that. I looked “blacker”. Lips having filled out and hair becoming curlier, but didn't “act it” anymore. A 180 degree turn, morphing into a total introvert, and meticulous perfectionist. One did not simply “do” his work anymore, it had to be perfected. Checked and double-checked. No excuses. And this is where apparently I lost my membership to “being black”. As if by loving to write or actually reading a book I was somehow stupefying myself before the world. Running from who I “really am”, upholding facades ( “being white” ). Because apparently uttering a few large vocab words I had learned the week before genetically altered me into all of these different people. As if being smart was to betray my color...Why wasn't I black anymore? Who knew right? And somehow, that was supposed to be appalling. Their perception of my identity was supposed to appall me.
High school is no different, but this is more intentional. And I love it. 2 Chains and Gucci Maine have no appeal to me, therefore I do not listen to them. Getting “#Turnt” and partying never calls to me, therefore I do not do so. Although an invite now and then would be a confidence boost… But quite frankly, I don’t care. If I want to “Dance with myself” with Billy Idol, two step and snap fingers with Spandau Ballet, shuck and jive to Frank Sinatra, or belt out power ballads courtesy of Journey around a bonfire, I will. If I want to “drop a beat” and freestyle with friends, or build relationships with teachers, or join a book club, or date my girlfriend “Elinerd” ( Elinor, I made up the nickname, it’s endearing ), or do a CoEd dance program, I will. By being my own person I consequently prove myself as a leader to others of my genetic “condition”. I’d like to think I am paving a way for others like me, “acting like something they’re not”, to enjoy themselves, or at least be a living example that you can be your own person and be wholly satisfied. I am a leader not because I think myself better than others, or do better, but because I chose to be the best “me”, and happiest “me” that I can possibly be. An important piece of life that I hope my actions have helped others to understand.
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