phoenyx.j.boston – The Black 90s

Because I am a man, I cannot love another man?

“In a perfect world I would never have to write this letter. In a perfect world there wouldn’t be a need for it. In a perfect world this pain…absent. In a perfect world we would accept people whom and what they are. No Strings, complete honestly, total acceptance, no matter what. In this imperfect world we live in, there is no longer dignity in telling the truth.” Harris, Invisible life, 250

Shining a light on an issue that was hidden from view within the African American community, “Invisible Life”, written by E. Lynn Harris, depicts the life of its protagonist, Raymond Winston Tyler Jr., as he tries to cope with his sexual attraction to men. At first glance, Raymond is the epitome of what every woman would desire in a man; he is a successful Sports and Entertainment lawyer and is physically attractive. It is as the story unfolds that we learn that there are many sides to this complex character. In an effort to avoid judgement, Raymond is the epitome of a “DL brother” in African American society. Though he has sexual encounters with men, he continues to keep this part of his life quiet in order to avoid the hardships that come along with openly being gay. The reader sees a glimpse of this while getting his shoes shined in the Harts field International Airport, the shoe shiner, an African American female, converses with him about many African American males being “DL’, which causes Raymond to rethink his earlier desires of “coming out of the closet”. “The hatred in her face and voice bothered me deeply. The fact that she was black made my feelings more intense (Harris 15).

The 1990s presented an elevated amount of AIDS/HIV cases which were initially thought to be connected directly to homosexual men and their sexual activities. African American men that were attracted to or desired to be with other men, had no other choice but to hide their true feelings and resort to hiding in the closet (becoming “down low”) in an attempt to refute the classification/associated with the stereotypical homosexuals. Many of these African American men, walk around us, exhibiting the looks of living, of what we would call, a “normal life” in order not to deal with aspects of discrimination and the stigma of being “gay”.

Though we live in an accepting world today, the phenomenon still exists. There are men that have secret sexual encounters with men but still continue to have relationships with women because of the appearance and comfortability it provides them. Being “out” and gay provides many hardships, including social exclusions in some communities that keep men in the closet. After all, who would want to be considered less of a man because of their sexual preference? Being straight in society is easy, being gay in society, is extremely judgmental and defiantly hard. Until we break the cycle and accept people for who they are, men will continue to live a lie and not their truth.

Pass the Blunt

“WHAT?!! Pass the Blunt?”….Soooo why do you smoke cause I don’t…don’t get it?

-June 17, 1999 at 6:25pm-
Now what I am about to say may cause some people to form a certain view about me and maybe not respect my opinion…but please note that this is only my opinion! I just do not get the concept of smoking weed. I have heard others say that it’s for enjoyment purposes only…and I have heard other weed heads say, that it’s a need. I personally think that it is a mechanism that can be used to keep the “have nots” to stay in their lower economic class and not to progress.

Through my educational endeavors, I have discovered that “others” view African Americans, as well as Hispanics, as inferior by falling victim to certain “unseen mechanisms”. I feel that weed is a part of these forces and are placed in individuals hands to keep them grounded. Now come on, what drug has the same damaging effects that weed has? I mean it can stop you from climbing the economic ladder. “Weed heads” usually use the concept that “it’s just like any other substance like alcohol and cigarettes”…but those are ALL legal.

My brothers and sistahs are so quick to speak about smoking “dro” or “ching chong” in music videos and in the street, but they will turn around and wonder why they are not getting hired. Others use the drug as a sedative for when they get stressed or find themselves under extreme amounts of pressure, but to these individuals I ask…are there any other “legal” avenues of expression and or relief that can be utilized that would not cause you to loose your livelihood?

This is only my opinion for I welcome yours.

-My thoughts today in 2015!-
As I look back to where I was 6 years ago mentally, I must say that I am amazed at what I wrote. Though I shared some of the same sentiments that I expressed above, I will say that acquired age, academic pursuits and experience has elevated my thinking on the topic. I have dated someone who was indeed a weed head, they lived to be high. That experience caused me to write the previous piece, thus causing me to feel like people only did the drug for recreation purposes, but love made me take an alternative view on the topic. After an argument, my partner disclosed that, the only reason they smoke was more than for recreational purposes; but for relief of from chronic headaches. Living in the days of unconventional modes of medicine, weed is now seen as an oasis in the storm: an avenue of relief for pain. It’s easy for people to judge accused weedheads and thugs based upon a “rough” exterior. But what if they had an illness that only weed could cure. The 1990s brought the use of weed to the forefront, the present has brought weed into the avenue of conventional medicine. Weed may not be so bad after all, but it damn sure is still not for me!!

Do your pants hang low?

So it is my first day of 7th grade (1997) and I am trying to figure out the best “fit” to wear. In the hopes of being cool, I decided that my “code” (dress code) needed to be different than it was the previous year. This year, I have decided to sagg like the rest of my male counterparts. I look through my closet and ensure that the jeans that I pick, will be just as big and as baggy in order to ensure they sagg just right. I accompany my jeans with my polo shirt, and timbs (timberlands), and proceeded out the door. Right before my foot hit the pavement, my grandmother yells “bring yo red ass back into dis house and pull up dem damn pants. No Grandson of mine is going to be owt there in da streets lookin like a fool wit does damn paints down under their ass”. Just to appease her, I rushed back into my room and temporarily pull up and restrain my paints with a belt. With my freedom being obtained through compliance, I escape her grasp and make my way to the bus stop. Before I hit the corner, I quickly adjust my “altered” appearance to its original stance and proceeded on my way. Things were going good and I finally felt “accepted” by my male counterparts and then…..it happened…someone ruined my moment by coming behind me and pulling my pants down to the ground and thus exposed my boxers. When I turned around to “check” whom had did it, I discovered that it was indeed my mother, cussing me out for having my pants so low. “If you wanted to show yo ass, then you shouldn’t mine me pulling them down all the way so that they can see everything”. Though this was the most embarrassing day of my life, it made me not want to ever sagg again because of the fear that my mother may be close by.

When I was a little order, I learned that the phenomenon was once a unspoken signal that denotes sexual availability by inmates in prison, but has been converted into an urban fashion statement. The 90s enlisted the perception that doing it promotes a statement of “hoodness” and the more fly you sag, the “more bitches” you get supposedly. African American youth have once again adopted something else that started out so negative and ushered it into popular urban culture. Youth try so hard to emulate the famous, while the famous try to emulate their muse. In the African American Community, rappers try to emulate thugs. Thugs are housed in the jails and therefore, sagging has and will continue to thrive.

You attend an HBCU? What is that?!

Unlike any other decade, the 1990s saw an influx of African Americans in pursuit of a higher education beyond the walls of their local High School. While many African Americans found it easier to enroll at a local colleges and universities, others (either forced or desired) to attend an historic black college and university. Parents of entering freshman, took pride in sending their children to HBCUs, once established to educate African Americans in a time where other white institutions wouldn’t. Once students arrived to the HBCU, educators and staff (whom were possible alums of that or other HBCUs) instilled a since of pride and understanding to their students about their “new home”. HBCUs in the 90s were a small knit family of their own and provided a since of community in a time where racial profiling and racism was dominant within the United States. But where does this since of pride come from and why is it important?

When African Americans were freed from slavery, many desired the opportunity to obtain a degree along side their white counterparts. In an attempt to deter their educational efforts, African Americans were initially not allowed to attend public/predominately white institutions in their surrounding areas. This inspired African Americans “to find a way or make one” by establishing their own institutions in order to service their communities. Many institutions were founded and even sometimes funded by religious institutions such as churches, while others received funding from individuals against collegiate segregation. When segregation was defeated at the collegiate level, and students were finally allowed the opportunity to attend wherever they choose, many abandoned “the traditions”, in hopes of getting a more “streamlined” and “respected” education, while others kept the tradition alive.

Having the opportunity to have attended both, I now have a unique perspective. Though I am grateful for having the opportunity of attending a PWI (Public White Institution) for undergrad, I am eternal grateful and have inherited a since of pride to have attended the FIRST Graduate institution for African Americans, The Clark Atlanta University. The relationships established at CAU are like no other from a communal experience to even a Greek/fraternal experience. HBCU life forms everlasting bonds between its students, teachers and administrators which are sometimes absent at PWIs. At the University of Central Florida, I felt as if I was a number, at CAU, I feel like I am a member of a family. Not saying that all professors at PWIs are like this, but I can’t begin to count on one hand how many professors have made an impact on my academic career at CAU.

What is love?

With the 1990’s ushering in the era of “hood” films, African Americans finally received an opportunity to tell their stories the way they lived it. Many saw this as an achievement, while others saw it as a misrepresentation of the race, by exploiting our issues. One of these areas heavily depicted was “love and relationships”, with many critics suggesting the exploitation of African American women. Films such as “Boys n da Hood” and “Don’t be a Menace”, not only came from the African American male’s perspective, but exhibited women as “bitches”, “hoes” and objects of sexual desire. Beyond the Nefertiti emblems, tight jeans, cut off shirts, updos and long braids, African American women demanded that they be portrayed not only as sexy, but as strong and independent.

With the “strong black women’s” movement of the 90s heavily underway, several films attempted to earn their respect by depicting the “female perspective” of daily life in the hood. Many film critics credit the rawness of John Singleton’s film “Poetic Justice”, as being the most representative of the African America female perspective. Many women could relate to how Justice had to cope with losing her boyfriend to the violence of the streets, her battle with depression and her ability to find love again.

So what was love like for African American men and women during the 1990’s? My response, is “hard and dangerous”! Films such as “Poetic Justice” provided audiences an accurate perspective of why love was harder to obtain from a women’s perspective. At a time when African American men were dying at the hands of gang violence and street life, African American women had to become hard, emotionless and even sometimes heartless in order to protect themselves. Love and the desire of relationships was a fairy-tale and even seen overall as a weakness to African American women. Unlike the present, where the requirements have become relaxed, African American women had to safeguard their hearts and block out the emotions in order to be successful and even survive. And for the men that did have hope, they either had to combat the pain and insecurities that were inherited by previous relationships, or had to be taught how to love.