Fear of Flying

After much self-denial, I finally admit it: The BrotherMan is afraid to fly.

And by flying, I don't mean I'm afraid to catch a plane from Texas to Arkansas, Albany, New York, or even out to Africa. By flying, I mean that I am afraid and maybe even clinging to something.

I was having a conversation with some graduate students down here the other day, and I was sharing with them my growing desire to remain at the University of Texas at Austin for a complete full year longer rather than for a semester, primarily to pursue a potential third degree. The very attractive graduate Sista who was involved in the conversation told me, What?! No, get out of here! Go! Leave! If you really want to stick around, just go to graduate school! The graduate Brother, however, asked me outright: What's really keeping you on campus? Are you staying because you don't know where you want to go, or are you staying because you're afraid to leave?

I admit, here and now, that perhaps I am afraid to leave campus. It's so ironic because I remember a faculty member on campus once said at a program I attended, You kids are so funny. You sit here talking about the whole time how much you can't wait to leave, but you always end up coming back. And it's true: so many UT graduates end up coming back to campus for one reason or another, whether it's to 'visit,' for a friend's graduation, for probates and commissioning ceremonies, for Texas Relays. I myself have already been contemplating coming back to the University of Texas when it hosts the Big XII Conference on Black Student Government in 2010.

I cannot stay at UT forever, that's obvious. And yes, some of my classes, I despise with a passion and truly believe them to be the Devil's own stepchildren. But I'd be sticking around for the community. I've said forever and a day all this year, that I will be leaving the (Black) community at UT behind after April; I'm throwing in the towel, retiring my jersey, and focusing on getting the hell out of here. That's what I said... The problem is, just as I'm taking the steps, really, to rip the S off of my chest and save myself (since no one else, in my opinion, is going to do it for me), something keeps pulling me back. In my opinion, my Black campus community is in a state of potential crisis; individuals are involved in Greek life or just paying dues and showing up one day out of the week at 7 PM or 6:30 PM to be in meetings just to be there. It got to a point where it came down to organizational elections and some people ended up declining their nominations on the election day. But the community doesn't care anymore: the people are not inclined to work with one another to solve their collective problems. They simply say, "come help me solve my problems"... but never once reach out to help with yours. This problem has been going on forever, but I could change that before I leave this campus...

So I am afraid of flying. I'm afraid to leave this campus environment because I've literally considered myself a 'caretaker' of the Black community. Maybe that's cocky of me, but damn it, I think I've earned the right: I'm more outspoken than I was as a freshman, and I guess I'm what you could call a student leader (in title, anyway). I am afraid to leave this environment where, at least, in my own eyes and in my mind, I have purpose. I am not the best leader on campus, or the man that every woman wants, but in the University of Texas at Austin Black Community, my opinion is valued; while I myself am not of value or even appreciated, perhaps some people need me around.

I am afraid that nothing I ever do in the real world will compare even slightly to what I've attempted to do in and for Black UT. I am afraid that, for all of my ambition, what if I fall short? What if I fail? Logically, how can you leave behind a place that is proven to believe in your ability to change things, for an unfamiliar world that will immediately brand you as just another face in the vast real world work force? I am afraid that I won't matter, because I think I do at UT.

I have strived, throughout my college career, to remain an individual who is humble yet available, someone that people can count on if they need something yet certainly someone fallible. I have strived to "trust (my)self when all men doubt me, but make allowance for their doubting too" (Rudyard Kipling). I cannot say for sure if I believe in Marianne Williamson's quote that I am "frightened by my own inner light"... but I know for sure, for all I have allegedly done at UT, I STILL feel inadequate; I have unfinished business here. I have yet to find that validation which would prove me otherwise. And really, maybe that's why I'm most afraid to fly: I don't want to go off into the world having finally found a reason to believe in myself and my abilities, only to find out that what I was really believing in was an illusion of who I believed myself to be... and that the real me ain't sh*t.

So, I wait... patiently yet longingly... for that seal of approval which will give me my wings.

In The Beginning, Part I: From the Ground Up

*What follows is a short story series I devised, but never quite finished, early in 2006. The story series, "In the Beginning," ultimately outlines the path one must take in order to achieve greatness or true success in life. While the story has Christian overtones, the message within it I hope could be considered universal, regardless of your religious beliefs or lack thereof... *

When I opened my eyes, I found myself at the foot of a crystal staircase bearing golden banisters. To the left of the stairs was a bronze sign bearing the words “Exercise caution and take two steps backwards before taking a step forward"; and to my right were a set of gold elevators. I started to proceed towards the elevators, but then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I spun around and saw myself facing an old man in a black and red bellhop outfit, his face bearing a good amount of gray stubble. On his right breast pocket was a golden nametag bearing the name “Father."

“Greetings, my son!" he said to me. “How are we today?"

“I’m fine," I told him. “But where am I? And I’m not your son."

“Oh, but I am your father, and you are my son," he said, a wide grin spreading across his face. “You may not yet realize it, but it is because of me that you find yourself here. You have been found wanting more than the others, unsatisfied with where the world has placed you. That crystal staircase over there" – and he gestured to the staircase – “is the path to greatness. It is the path that all those who aspire to do things beyond the notions and mindsets of this world find themselves taking to become better people. Where you find yourself now is on the ground floor."

The man called Father began walking towards the wall on our left, which was covered by a thin red veil, and he motioned for me to follow him. He pulled back the veil, and I was almost startled by what I saw: behind the veil was a window that showed a city filled with dirty streets, lots of neon lights, and buildings that might once have looked beautiful, but were marred either by time or terrible usage. People were scattered all throughout the streets, some wearing little to no clothing at all. Young kids could be seen passing around packets of a white substance and handing out thin objects that looked a lot like the “red tip" needles used and abused by drug addicts.

In some of the alleys and department store windows, people indirectly put themselves on display by either flashing those who randomly walked by or having sex in plain view of the other people. On the roofs of the few police cars visible in the streets lay individuals covered in food, with those bearing police uniforms opulently eating the food off of these individuals. Stretching from one building to another were banners bearing such slogans as “God? What God?!"; “Hedonism is my only religion"; and “Why Pray When You Have the Freedom to Choose?" It was quite a sight to see.

“My son, when you were born, you like all people began on the ground floor, embedded in original sin. Those who exist on the ground floor have found themselves believing in something other than the Creator. Their gods may be anything, from money to sex to public appeal. They are indeed free to do whatever they wish to do, for they have the freedom to choose.

"However, because there is so much freedom, these people have no limits. Without these limits, the people have no morals or beliefs to adhere to, and are prevented from exercising such notions as decency, respect, and considerateness. They fact that they are aware of the power of their choices means that these people possess a large amount of potential to be greater than they are. But either because their lives have been hard on them, or because they felt I did not answer enough of their prayers, they have become victims of their own hunger. They possess a desire and a need to be in a better position than they are in now… but they have instead grown content, believing this is it for them and so they will just settle for what they have.

“My son, you too have the power to choose." He pointed towards an area outside that I had not looked towards previously, towards a man wearing a soiled dress shirt and blue jeans covered in dirt. The man turned to look back at something… and I saw that the man was me.

“You have the opportunity to stay here, on the ground floor, and exist as a person who is free to choose. You will be able to do whatever you wish whenever you wish, without having to worry about who you may hurt, offend, betray, or even kill. There will be no repercussions or accountability for your actions because your freedom will eliminate any notion of accountability or responsibility. Here you will exist as your basest, barest self. And, more importantly, here you will exist without the presence of God in your life.

“On the other hand, if you are willing to seek and be more, if you desire to be a better person, if you find yourself disgusted or offended by what you have seen here and would like to move in the direction of a more ordered life, of a greater life… then proceed up the crystal staircase. I cannot promise you that your journey up the crystal staircase, and on towards greatness will not be long, but I can promise you that the journey will be worth your time.

“No matter what you decide, my son, I will support your decision. Because you are my child, I love you so much that I will accept whatever it is you choose to do, and I will continue loving you until the end of time."

I took a moment to ponder Father’s words. It was interesting to imagine living in a world with no morals and no accountability. While the sight before me seemed very disgusting, the thought itself seemed intriguing: being able to live without having to check my motivations, being able to do what I wanted to do when I wanted to do it without having to answer for it. At the same time, I asked myself if I could truly see myself living without God, especially after having been so dependent on Him for so long.

I looked back through the window, took in all of the visuals. I found myself the slightest bit tempted by some of the naked women running around in the streets, the free TVs and iPods that people kept taking out of broken store display windows, the complete disregard for authority figures to all that was going on around them.

And that’s when I saw it: when I looked upon the figure who was myself in that crowd of the dingy and dirty, I saw him look back and upwards towards me. I saw a wicked grin plastered across his face, but his eyes… I will never forget the look that was in his eyes. His eyes were watery and pleading, as if they had a hunger for more. It was then that I realized that, on this ground floor, we sometimes get caught up in the fact that our bodies might say something is good for us when our hearts and minds know it is unhealthy spiritually and mentally to indulge in such things. It was time to move forward.

I turned around and began walking towards the crystal staircase. I tried to look up the flight of stairs towards the next landing, but the stairs went up into a sort of cloud covering. But that didn’t matter: I knew a better life was waiting for me at the top of those stairs. But before I could begin ascending, I felt a tap on my shoulder again. It was Father, again bearing that wide grin of his.

“My son, before you begin making your way up those stairs and onwards towards greatness… I wanted to let you know that it will be a long journey. Keep in mind that you should take two steps backwards before taking a step forward: for once you leave any of the areas ahead behind, you can never go back to them. But keep in mind also that whenever you have doubt or questions, you can come to me, for I will always be with you, my son."I smiled back at Father and shook his hands with him. Then I took a deep breath, and proceeded onwards up the crystal staircase.

On Love of Self, Others, and The Race

"My last claim is that real love, the love of others and love of self, is
often painful and sometimes seems harsh.

If we do love each other and we love our race, then we have to be
critical of ourselves and honest. Love is an act of recognition, empathy, and
sharing. Love is not the act of giving, but is, in itself, a gift... We can't
support the men and women who say that the white man is too much for them. We have to say, 'No, sister. No, brother. You're wrong about that. You've got the
power in your hands.' There's love in that phrase, but many people will be angry
when you say it. Angry because we have lived through many generations in which
white America has done its best to disable our love for ourselves.

The expectations of love are too much for too many of us. It's easier to
share the feeling of defeat; the false blues. To love someone is to believe in
her or him. To believe in someone is to expect the highest standard of her or
his humanity. If we can achieve this kind of love, we can do anything... I
believe that we can love each other without pulling ourselves down."

- Walter Mosley, from the essay "Giving Back" in Black Genius: African-American Solutions to African-American Problems

The above is one of my all-time favorite quotes from one of my all-time favorite reads. It's only recently that I've begun to really consider what Walter Mosley was saying. Ours is a cruel world these days. As Mo'Nique so eloquently put it on one episode of Charm School, "Life is painful. It simply bends you over, and it uses no vaseline." It gets harder when you're a person of color and you start seeking out a support group amongst people who look like you and who you would believe in one way or another share or understand what you're going through.

Being involved in campus life for my entire undergraduate career, I know all too well the joys and pitfalls of having such love. Love can be THE most terrifying feeling you ever have in your lifetime. It takes a lot to do what Mosley said and "believe in someone and expect the highest level of humanity from her or him." It's hard... because no doubt you've been let down before. You've put your trust, your faith, sometimes even your heart into organizations, friendships, relationships... only to be disappointed, find your trust betrayed, find your heart broken. True love demands a vulnerability from all parties involved: you're literally opening up yourself to this other person or this organization, giving this organization or person the best that you have to offer most of the time. You expect that the love will be returned; I mean, it's due process, right. But the reality is, that is not always the case.

This is what is hurting our people right now, from a community and from a relationship standpoint. We don't believe in ourselves enough. When someone shares their ambitions and aspirations with another Black person, sometimes those ambitions or aspirations are shot down. I remember we were volunteering at this middle school mentoring young Brothers down there, and the first meeting we had with them, we presented them with statistics on the low numbers of high school and college athletes who go on to play professional sports. While our intentions had been to mainly let them know about other life options outside of sports, looking back, I see that we really went in there KILLING those Brothers' dreams. We cannot be Dream Killers, complacent and saying simply, "this is how it is" having been so misguided and mislead by the sometimes oppressive nature of the privleged. We must hold back our inner cynic or 'realist' when a young Black girl says she wants to run for President someday, or when a young Black boy says he wants to play professional hockey or become a chess champion or any number of things. We MUST believe in our potential as people of color to continue our ancestors' tradition of rising to the occasion and going above 'the expectation.'

We don't love each other, as well; or when we do love, it takes a conditional route. "I promise to love you if... If you really loved me, you'd do... You're not on my level (until you do)..." While it is reasonable to demand something from your friends, your lovers, your spouses, in your relationships, it is unfair to them to give them something to ASPIRE to as if you are somewhat higher placed than they are, much less to not return the favor. You never answer their phone calls, but you expect them to pick up on the first ring at 2 AM when the sky in your world starts falling. You set 'standards' for the person in your life that you don't yourself adhere to. You ask much of a potential life partner without considering what you can and would offer. What you may perceive as the other person 'not doing enough' in the relationship, may simply be them doing the best or all they know HOW to do.

As a people, as individuals, we MUST be willing to be vulnerable. We must be prepared to open ourselves up. Yes, life is hard; yes, love hurts; but when you adopt Hammurabi-style eye-for-an-eye relational politics, especially in light of the wise strong words of Ephesians 5 of the Holy Bible, you suffer more. Ephesians 5:12 reads, "Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ." Compromise. Accept the shortcomings and failures and mistakes of those you love not as them not being worthy of you; but rather, as them BEING HUMAN. This is the type of love we all need and should aspire to give: a love that accepts that we are human, that we are flawed, but that we are still deserving. A love that demands we accept ourselves, because while in our own eyes, we are flawed, the skin you're in and the soul you hold are perfect in the eyes of your Creator. A love that is so great, it asks the tough questions, but extends a hand as opposed to just pointing a finger. A love that will demand more of you because it knows you are capable of better, not because it believes it's better than you. A love that will take you not for you who will or should become, but for who you are.

Sacrifice

I was having a very interesting conversation about a week ago with one of the students whom I mentor. This student is contemplating graduating a semester early from college so that s/he can 'immediately start pursuing my career endeavors,' but I've continually tried to tell this student that s/he should take advantage of all eight semesters of college just because this is really the only time you'll get to yourself outside of the real world. Especially with regards to her/his particular desired career track, s/he may NEVER get a break like they've gotten in college after undergrad graduation. But perhaps the most poignant thing I took away from this conversation was something my mentee said: "Life is all about sacrifices, man."

So this has weighed on my heart and mind. Is life really all about sacrifices? I had to ask the question because, quite simply, it was something I told myself leading up to my second semester as a third-year undergrad student. In those days, I was substantially busier and much more grounded in organizational involvement. In my third year, as well, I was dealt multiple blows in the sense that I had to transition from being involved in the Black community to being involved solely in student affairs as a Resident Assistant and member of the student governing body. I told myself, for the longest time, that when I was interested in pursuing someone relationship-wise, it just might not work out because I was so busy. I felt committed, empowered, impassioned to change the world or at least the people within it. I felt that this mission would demand so much of me that I just wouldn't be able to entertain a serious relationship while in college; I felt that I just wouldn't have time for that person. She had to be willing to accept that I needed to be around in the community, and that sometimes she would have to take the back burner because of that. I think about so many times when I sacrificed opportunities to hang with friends, to go out with interesting young women, to basically just get drunk and lose my inhibitions... in the name of 'having to study,' 'having to complete this pub for a student organization before 2 PM,' 'having to keep my reputation intact.'

Taking this back somewhat further, I think about how I was living prior to coming to college. I'm the oldest in my family, so pretty much every decision I had made prior to going off to school (and even some of my decisions here at school) had to take into consideration my two younger sisters. I always felt a need to make sure that my younger sisters well off and doing fine... probably because that was ingrained in me from the very beginning. So if my friends wanted to go out and party or what have you, I had to sacrifice that outing in order to babysit if my parents had to work or 'just weren't feeling too good tonight.' When I came to college, I was put in a position whereby I didn't have to worry about that as much; I could go out when I wanted, do more of what I wanted to do without having to worry about the repercussions or having to be back in a certain time to watch my younger sisters. I was able to experience much more independence than I had ever had access to before.

It's funnier now because, even as I'm off at school, I still feel compelled, somewhat, to look back home. My aspirations have me looking towards pursuing graduate study at a law school somewhere far from Texas, either up north or on the East Coast. However, only just recently, I've felt compelled to start considering law schools in Texas because I've become worried for my younger siblings, one of whom is merely two years away from going off to college herself. That's somewhat scary: knowing that not only is one sister going off to college, but the youngest will be left at home alone with her parents.

It is scary to think that sacrifice is ALL one has to look forward to in life. That to get ahead, to stay ahead, you have to give up so much... to get what appears to be something larger, but which may, in reality be very little and probably won't mean as much to you as family, really good friends, and a strong faithful and faith-filled relationship with someone who complements you. But then, I consider the many things I've seen happen to people I know and to myself. Potential relationships sacrificed because someone felt a young lady would demand too much of his time and take away from his political ambitions. Friendships sacrificed in the name of joining a Greek letter organization to 'get ahead.' Family relationships, ballet recitals, choir concerts, UIL play performances, birthday dinners sacrificed because the extra hours had to be worked in order to pay the bills. One's identity sacrificed because 'success' and upward mobility in the workplace required the removal of an accent from one's voice or the trimming of one's hair to fit professionalism standards.

I'm almost compelled to ask the question, can you afford to be even just a little bit selfish when you have high ambitions and higher expectations than the next woman or man? Or do high demands and higher expectations dictate that you must be willing to sacrifice everything (except maybe your sanity) to reach them?

Haunted...

I see it... her... from a distance. Not because I don't want to be in its... her presence, but because our environment dictates that only certain people are worthy of her... its presence.

Once, I thought I was. I was compelled further by the comments of others that I might complement her... it well, that we would make a good couple. But then I reached out to it... her, and where I had expected her... its hand to take hold of mine, she... it simply bit my hand and turned the other way. I was wounded, hurt, by its... her rejection. I asked myself if I was not amongst the select few, the chosen, the deserving of her... its attention. Here I was, thinking I had done all I could to be the best at what I did, and yet and still, all I did was not enough to gain the attention of it... she who mattered most. I questioned myself and who I was and what I was becoming and whether I was doing too little or too much. I saw it... her give itself... herself to people I considered my friends. I began to draw comparisons. I told myself these other people must have been better, smarter, faster, stronger than me. I taught myself to understand that I was just not good enough, not what she... it wanted.

But I wanted it... her badder than I ever wanted anything before. She... it stands beside me, in my friends, in my acquaintances, its... her allure unshakeable, unwavering, unstable, uncontrollable, irresistible. I felt as though I needed her... it to affirm, reaffirm my purpose. It... she called me with the same reckless seductive abandon with which the Sirens once called many Grecian ships into troubled rocky waters. I got frustrated for a time with God because I felt He kept placing her... it in my direct line of sight. I felt that He was pointing at her... it, and telling me, Look at it... her. Isn't it... she lovely? This is what you cannot have.

Not too long ago, I accepted that she... it was not meant for me. It... she haunts me, taunts me, teases me still, seeming to say, I am here if you want me bad enough. What you want, I could give you that... if you give yourself to me. But I remember when I wanted to give myself to her... it, and I remember how I was refused and left confused. I am not fully healed from that first time she... it denied me a place at her... its side. At times, I find my eyes upon her... it, and I know she... it feels me staring. I am almost certain others can see it in my eyes when I look at it... her. Others can see that envy, that desire, that hunger, in my eyes, and that scares me. Because in spite of all I've told myself, I know that she... it remains my weakness, my need, my ghost.

Dear God, if you will not allow me to have it... her, please, take it... her out of my mind and off of my heart.

Statement of Purpose - Allow Me to Introduce Myself...

A mentor-friend-brother of mine, Jonathan Sprinkles once said, If you do not know the purpose of something, you will misuse, confuse or abuse that something. That being said, I felt compelled to make my first post a 'statement of purpose,' not only to introduce you to me... but to reaffirm, really, why I felt the need to start a blog.

I guess we should start with the name. Seraph is a character from The Matrix movie trilogy (I'm a huge movie buff). According to the Seraph's backstory, he is considered a 'guardian angel,' and he feels compelled to 'protect that which matters most.' Throughout the film series, the Seraph also 'tests the heart's resolve' of many people by challenging them to battle, so they may earn access to the people he cares about. Seraph is derived from Seraphim, a term used in the Hebrew Bible to denote the highest ranked of angels, who were guided by 'a continual upward movement, borne inflexibly towards God. Seraphim burned with the fire of charity, or even an excess of charity, and with love for the Creator and perfectly enlightening others.'

The BrotherMan was/is an alter ego I created for myself back in high school, a confident, smooth Brotha who dropped grand poetic knowledge. He was a sort of "Super-Negro," constantly devoted or even bound, perhaps, to the collective uplift of Afrikan and African-American people. In short, he was/is a hero. Much like the heroes of movie and comic book lore (I'm a fan of those, too), though, perhaps his dedication to 'the cause' sometimes resulted/results in a lack of commitment, thereof, to the people he considers close to him.

I consider myself an embodiment of both: a Seraph, a guardian angel devoted to the Creator in Heaven, committed to reaching out to and wrapping my arms around those close to me, quick to stand for and in front of those I care about whenever they are threatened; and the BrotherMan, a not-quite-tragic hero, a liberator for my people trapped in the misinformed and miseducated confines of the modern, real-time Matrix. I do not claim to be perfect or flawless. But I do consider myself faith-livin' and purpose driven.

To borrow the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., "I may not get there with you" in terms of the liberation of my people, for ours is an ongoing struggle. But I'll be DAMNED if I'm going to leave you behind in, especially if I possess the tools and knowledge needed to get you out of the struggle in one piece and to empower you for the future battles. That, ultimately, is what I hope to accomplish: to encourage and empower you through my experiences. I accept that what I do may lead me to become as 'invisible' at the titular character in Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man; but through the power of The Creator, I find it more important to remind US that only when we are 'indivisible' as a people, can we achieve our highest potential to change the world.

Stay blessed and steadfast, and stick around: I just might be able to provide the spiritual or intellectual sustenance you've been looking for.