The Black Hole: What Does It Mean To Be Black?

 

(The following in italics are quotes from the film Black is… Black Ain’t on the scope of blackness)

To tell the truth, there's nothing better in this world than my Big Mama's Gumbo. I guess it's because it's got a little bit of everything in it.

Everything that you can imagine can be put into gumbo. Shrimp, crayfish, sausage, alligator sausage, pork sausage, crab ...           

There are as many kinds of black people as there are black people to be.

If a people is like gumbo, then you might ask, ''What is the roux?" That special element that binds and gives everything its distinct flavor. I think all black people have to reconcile themselves to each other, to our differences and we have to get over the notion that you can, that you can only be unified as a people as long as everybody agrees. You know, we don't achieve freedom by those means.

''WE'RE A THOUSAND AND ONE DIFFERENT COLORS." - Malcolm X-

I think we have such an obsession with naming ourselves because during most of our history we we've been named by somebody else.

I love kente cloth. I have kente cloth in my house and I wear kente cloth but I don't confuse that with my identity. Because I can wear kente cloth, but I can also put on a pair of jeans and I feel just as black as I did when I had the kente cloth on.

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You can tell me I am black by the color of my skin, but beyond that what does it truly mean to be black? The black experience has been one of the most complex scripts written into the history of people. Since the displacement from Africa and native tongues, to the shackles of slavery, black people are now attempting to overcome the preconceptions so deeply ingrained in their history. For hundreds of years black people have been told how to be. As their phenotypic characteristics did not match it’s white counterpart, they were seen as everything white fragility was afraid of. These representations were so potent in the media, that black people themselves have come to embrace them. However, these stereotypes are very problematic as they contradict each other, and because they can never be concrete because they restrict the agency that cultural identity and blackness demands. The Boondocks created by Aaron McGruder, does a great job at exploring this dynamic critiquing not only the stereotypes and the contradictions they present, but also how ridiculous it is when black people blindly participate in them. The Boondocks promotes a “new type of racial literacy,” that widens the lens on racial experiences, informed about social and political possibilities (Elam, 63). Through analyzing the characters of The Boondocks, I will argue for the indefinite capacity of blackness. Blackness cannot be contained, nor essentialized, and understanding this will allow black people to break the current system of oppression upheld by stereotypes.

            There are five main characters in The Boondocks and many minor characters that make an appearance throughout the show. There is Huey who is the young intellectual black kid whose voice is often not heard. Rylie is his little brother who is concerned with all the wrong things. He is obsessed with pop culture and materialistic things, getting girls and is considered a wannabe gangster. Then there is Robert, better known as Granddad, who represents the older generation of black folk that are too concerned with the struggles they had to overcome, and fail to see the modern-day struggle of black people. There are two Uncle Tom critiques, Uncle Ruckus and Tom. Uncle Ruckus is a representation of black hate, while Tom represents the black person who has successfully been integrated into white culture and has seemed to have forgotten his black identity. Other portrayals of black people on the show also come through rappers such as Gangstalicious and Thugnificent. Of course, there are also various portrayals of women who are often exploited, objectified, and seen as either ratchet, bossy, the single mother who struggles raising her kids, and so forth.  

            Huey and Riley juxtapose each other perfectly and it just so happens that they are also brothers. In a way they are two sides of the same coin. Rylie indulges in activities that society has anchored to black men (e.g. angry, hypersexual, lazy). “He is proof in the show that what children see in the media heavily influences their thoughts, ideas, actions, and dialogue” (Moore, 6). That is problematic because he has a limited view on what it means to be black, and rejects anything that strays from that outlook. Huey on the other hand is everything that white fragility fears, an intellectual, well-spoken, ambitious black man. Huey often struggles with being identified as the educated black person, and is often confused as to why it is thought of an accomplishment that he is a black person who likes to read and talk properly (Moore, 4). This indicates the stereotype that to be black means you are inarticulate and ignorant.

            The show also touches on other stereotypes that make up “typical niggas” (Moore, 11). This can be seen in the Hurricane Katrina episode, where Granddad does not want to help his relatives who have been affected because of this fear of the “typical nigga.” By that he means that he is worried that they will be unappreciative of the favor, and overstay their welcome because they are too lazy to get back on their feet by their own means. This is an unfair portrayal of black people, however when people indulge in this behavior, it only pushes forth that narrative. But why do people behave in ways that reaffirm a stereotype? Simple, they have been taught that, that is all they can aspire too, especially when under less than ideal circumstances of poverty. Although these are stereotypes, it is important to realize that they persist because there are undoubtedly people who play into these roles. To be clear, embracing performances that are stereotypical is not necessarily the issue, however restricting the entire experience of blackness to said stereotypes keeps others from seeing black people beyond that lens.

There are various images of hip- hop culture that comes to life in the show, primarily Thugnificent and Gangstalicious. These characters, for the most part, fit the role of the tough, hostile rapper, who is only concerned with money and sex. Men play into this role as a way to counter the abusive and embarrassing narrative of the black man during the times of slavery (Johnson, 37). They exaggerate their masculinity to prove that the past of their ancestors does not take away from their manliness. They constantly show these men participating in the stereotype that black men are aggressive, especially with other black men. Gangstalicious for example, was shown “beefing” with another rapper. In the episode he was in the hospital multiple times after being shot, and was nearly killed at one point. This is arguably one of the most dangerous stereotypes that white media has imposed on black men. Now, people within the black community are killing each other, doing the job the master's hand can no longer do today. Another interesting dynamic that Gangstalicious presents is the fact that he is a gay rapper. This begins to break this restrictive mold of what it means to be a gangster/rapper, while simultaneously highlighting yet another potent narrative within the black community, homophobia. Callaloo argues that we must challenge the mainstream images of black masculinity today as a counterpart to black feminism, because doing so allow for new possibilities how we see the disruptive binaries within blackness (i.e. straight or gay) (404).

 When black people are tied to stereotypes, it leads to prejudice outside of the community. This prejudice fosters the idea that black people are violent, angry, lazy, and so on. Within the community, because so many black people are conditioned to fit into a particular script, it builds this standard of what it means to be authentically black. This is not only backwards in the sense that this “authentic blackness” was born out of stereotypes and prejudice, but also because it is meant to divide the community. Black people will look at these stereotypes and see that they do not fulfill them and will be alienated from their own community and be ostracized. People who want to transcend these stereotypes in fear of confirming them are participating in the social identity threat. This is where people are afraid to act in a stereotypical way that perpetuates the stereotype, and the divide between authentic and unauthentic blacks deepen. For example, Rylie falls victim to the stereotype of hypersexual black men and the homophobia within the black community. When he finds out his idol, Gangstalicious, is gay, he immediately retracts is admiration for him, condemning Gangstalicious’ sexual orientation, and saying he is “not a real nigga” (The Story of Gangstalicious, Season 2, Episode 13). On contrast, Uncle Ruckus participates in the stereotype threat through his black hate. He refuses to partake in anything tainted with blackness.

            It could be argued that this divide between what constitutes as black and what doesn’t, continues because of the lack of a centrality to blackness. Blackness has always been revolutionary and changing decade to decade. In the 60’s it was about power, the 70’s and soul, the 90’s and hip-hop, and so on. Black people have failed to push forward in a collective force because they fail to accept the vastness and ever changing identity of blackness. With this lack of understanding, how could others outside of the community be asked to see us as more than what the media presents? It would be far more valuable to bond over the common thread that no matter what we indulge in as individuals, society sees all black people of any shade as just that. There is a systematic oppression that affects all black people and that doesn’t change just because of your choice in music, hobbies, or pronunciation.

The Boondocks also uniquely critiques Black Entertainment Television (BET). It is a stance against mainstream media and their narrow portrayals of blackness, yet at the same time BET itself only displays a narrow view of blackness (The Hunger Strike, Season 2, Episode 14). This further touches on the ignorance that the black community has when it comes to it’s own identity. The Boondocks claims that moments of ignorance, “nigga moments,” would be the a top leading killer against black people (Granddad’s Fight, Season 1, Episode 4). The show on one hand critiques white fragility and the way they try to contain blackness. On the other hand, black people can watch and laugh along with the ridiculousness of the show. However, the black audience is also challenged also look within themselves and ask why they are portrayed this way and the mechanisms behind the controlled image. Stuart Hall would argue that this hegemonic representation of blackness is a mutual agreement (Hall, 2). Which is essentially saying that because we have been saturated with limiting depictions of what it means to be black, we have come to accept the role we have been given. Again, these “nigga moments” ultimately comes from black people not knowing themselves, and not having yet the capacity to take on the responsibility that blackness can be anything they wish it to be.

As I mentioned before, this lack of understanding for those who choose not to partake in stereotypical roles alienates and divides the black community. Those who do not fit the mold are often seen as mythical figures and although they are definitely not white, they are not quite black either. The Boondocks’ characters are undeniably performing blackness from different angles, stereotype or not. However, they passively acknowledge these differences in conversation, so unwilling to divulge in where these differences come from, not allowing them simmer together to enrich the flavor of gumbo that blackness bathes in. Hall claims this disinterest of embracing distinct differences within the black community comes from the fact that white people are unwilling to tell the difference between them anyway, so why bother (Hall, 444)?

Well, we should bother because the black community must form a collective to overcome the complications black people have faced for too long. There are so many stereotypical scripts The Boondocks pulls on, that in itself should be proof of the complexity of blackness. Even when sticking to a stereotype, there are so many to choose from; so how can you ever come up with a concrete definition of what the black experience withholds? The Boondocks is one of the most important media social critiques of the 2000s and continues to have an influence. Although many of the topics may make black and white audiences uncomfortable at times-- due to the brutal yet honest critique on the black community and the view of the black community-- this has allowed for many to self-reflection on their own actions and the actions of those around them. For black people, it will begin the process of acquiring the ability to taste the individual ingredients within the gumbo of blackness, realizing that together these components contribute to something unique. The beauty of it all is that anything can contribute to gumbo; anything can contribute to blackness. For non-blacks, it opens their view on what blackness actually is, and might even find that they at times participate in the performance of blackness. When we all appreciate the variance that blackness demands, we can move forward beyond the twisted cycle that has perpetuated the oppression of black people through stereotypes.

"What do you want to be when you grow up"

Since the election (yes, I'm still talking 'bout it.. DO YOU SEE THE PEOPLE HE IS APPOINTING... DID YOU SEE WHO IS SUPPOSED TO BE OUR NEXT ATTORNEY GENERAL... WHERE IS OLIVIA POPE WHEN YOU NEED HER), I've been trying 's hard to put a title on what I hope my life work to be. A week ago I was talking to an advisor switching my second major from communication with a focus in journalism to just general communication, and she asked me, "what do you want to be when you grow up?" A part of me was a slightly offended and in my head I thought, "Excuse me ma'am, I am a woman 20 years of age. I am a grown up thank you very much." And then I choked. The me that is usually well spoken and sure in my truth was found stuttering, failing to formulate a proper sentence. In that moment I realized a few things:

1) Yes, I am a woman now. I have been through things that has forced me to grow up quickly in some aspects of my life... I work very hard to try and provide for myself as much as I can (with some help when the struggle gets too real). And the biggest indication of my adulthood: my mom can no longer call the doctor for me. So yes in that respect I am an adult, I have grown up.. but let's be real, I'm in many ways still just a kid. From the fact that I call my mom every day and still believe she has magic powers that can cure any illness that comes my way, to the fact that I am an ever changing being who will never be done growing or learning or dreaming... Being asked what I want to be when I grow up will never be a silly question. It will be a question to challenge me to keep pushing for something better and to keep believing I can do anything with the same enthusiam I had when I thought I would compete in the 2016 Olympics when I was 9 or that I would make it on American Idol one day (if it ever comes back, you can catch me first in line..I may or may not be able to sing, but why not just go for it right?). That sweet childlike disposition.. That mindset in itself is so powerful and unfortunately begins to fade when we pressure kids into thinking that they are not successful unless they got a hearty salary and flashy things so that everyone knows it.

2)I know I'm going to one day have some job with some title to go with it, but that doesn't mean I have to work towards that specific thing because at the end of the day, that title will not define me. You can say I want to be a humanitarian, but what exactly is that? I have a passion to love hard every chance I get and to help others in need and help everyone live a little fuller with understanding that being true to who you are and being understanding and having room for compassion and love is such a special, simple, and essential aspect of human being.. and that passion will drive me to wherever I am needed in the near future.

I hate that money is such a necessity to have access to basic needs because if I had it my way, I would work just hard enough to have my mom retire comfortably and put my little brother through college.. and that work would simply be to just go around making sure people felt loved. It sounds cheesy but that's needed more than you thinkg. That was something I struggled with for a while and whether that is because I simply was scared and didn't allow it.. or something else, I felt empty. And I'm vocal about that not for pitty, but because I'm proud that I moved past that and moving forward I never ever want anyone to feel that way if I have any say in it.

3) Whatever my job will be down the road, this is what I hope it holds:
I want to get people educated. My goodness, if this election showed us anything, it's that there is a great divide and education is a major factor in that.. discussing the election in the lab I work in (the lab focuses on stereotype, identity, and belonging), the head professor mentioned the fact that the resources for people to learn about the very important issues of our world are there, but the lack of accessibility is what holds society back. A friend of our head professor had this to say: The work social psychologist do is so important, however not every person has access to that information. Why do people have to wait until higher education to get access to this valuable information? Why isn't this taught in middle school, high school?

That made me realize through all the  things that make me, me which might unfortunately make life a bit more difficult... I am privileged in my education. I want to teach people.. but that should not be limited to those who can afford it. A friend in my Psych of Emotions class told me that in India he had a morality class throughout high school, like that is unheard of here, but would do so much good! Also, I personally hate that liberals are said to be elitists.. If we want change let's not simply tell those that we disagree with that they are wrong, let's show them where we are coming from. Let's make sure we all have access to the facts, the research, proper history books that honestly depict where we've been, and that will ultimately provide everyone with a chance to make an educated decision on what values they want to uphold. Yes, some things are taught at home with nothing to back it up besides the authority in your parents words and while I'm not saying to defy to them, it is important that as we all become our own person, instead of blindly following the opinion of others, we pick up a book and read up on what we don't know/understand and think we hate. If you can't provide a reason for why you do or do not believe in something, that speaks volumes. 

Anyway, now I'm rambling. Whatever I do, I want to be a good person. I want to love others and help those in need. I want to be passionate about it... I want to make a difference.

Intellect and Love. Compassion and Understanding. The most dangerous weapons to exist in this universe and beyond. 

I'm ready to go to war for you, me, our future, and the chance for everyone to live their best life freely...

With Love,

Mi 

*this election is the worst and best (eh..not really but you get it) thing to happen..adding fuel to the fire baby*

Be About Something Bigger: "Make My Cancer Matter"

My very first and one of my favorite professors here at the UW has been diagnosed with a rare blood cancer called myelodysplastic syndrome (you can read more about her story here).

As a wide eyed freshman at UW Fall Quarter 2014, I was in a FIG, I took German and I took SOC 270 aka Social Problems. German was taught by a grad student and my FIG was peer led, so that meant that Professor Harris was my first actual Professor. Walking into a 300 person lecture, I took my FIG leaders advice sat in the front and attempted to participate, and it was one of the best decisions I have made thus far. The only downside was that it set the bar high for the professors to follow (and TAs.. Shoutout to Carter).

As I got more comfortable voicing my thoughts in front of so many people in a class that deals with some emotionally charged topics, I simultaneously began to broaden my view about the world. I often think back to this class as really solidifying my passion for social justice and positive change. I’m sitting here two years later and SOC 270 still sits atop of the list as one of my favorite courses so far.

Besides the intriguing material, the experience was what it was in part because of Professor Harris herself. I think many professors are so smart and intellectually inclined that they sometimes lack in the talent of talking to “real people.” However, Professor Harris was real. Like when she had us analyze 2pac’s ‘Changes’ in class, it wasn’t like she was trying to be “cool,” it wasn’t an act, she knew what she was doing. She had the perfect balance between introducing material and the ability to make us understand it’s relevance.. even when discussing topics from decades ago. I think a major issue professors have is being able to bring relevance to what they teach and therefore things don’t stick, and we end up just regurgitating piles of information that we see as simply useful to pass a class. But SOC 270 did not have that problem.

With all of that said, the most important encounter I had with Professor Harris, was when I gained the courage to go office hours. I didn’t really have a question, I just felt like I needed to go and say something.. anything. We ended up talking about sociology and the things we went over in class and similar experiences and how my service learning with Dream Project fit in with the material and just everything. At that point she was the reason I almost took up sociology as a second major but I thought I was just in lust with the course. Long story short, I regret not taking that gut feeling more seriously. But I think the one thing I took away from that meeting was when we were finishing up on our talk about grad school and how I was looking at UCLA which was where she happened to do her graduate studies, and she said to me as I was about to leave “if you ever need anything let me know, I’ll be here.”And I genuinely believed her and in a scary new place that really struck a chord with me. I wish I could expand on that, but I can’t.

She a good person. And I say that with the utmost sincerity. That’s why when I found out about her current circumstances I was just taken aback because something so terrible could happen to someone doing such good in the world. (Here’s her website with some general information about her and some of her work)

And in true Alexes Harris fashion she has turned her situation into a chance to educate, spread awareness and help others. As she searches for a donor it has been brought to her attention how difficult that can be as a POC or person of a mixed race origin. So she has had some help setting up a national bone marrow donation registry campaign, to help raise awareness and help people like her. This is how she wants to “make [her] cancer matter."

I guess the point of this is to give credit where credit is due. She is a Wife, Mother, Teacher, and in other words Superhero. Even in such a situation, she finds it in her heart to be about something bigger than herself. So please visit her website, get educated and educate and become a donor.

Much Love.

Mi

Dear Friends, why aren't we talking?

As I look ahead to my last four quarters at UW I cannot help but be critical of the lack of depth I have experienced the past two years and hope for more as time goes on. I have had countless conversations with my mother this summer expressing my frustration in regards to the lack of a cohesive grip on how to genuinely converse and connect with one another. I wonder if people know how to communicate anymore, as I see the people closest to me opting to drown themselves in copious amounts of alcohol not to let loose but rather to forget and not feel what surrounds them. Beyond that, there seems to be a decline in interest of growing intellect beyond a textbook, and so many seem to be disengaged with things that are happening in our world. Here, let me explain…

America and the World at large has and continues to experience countless acts of terror, hate, and destructiveness that is truly terrifying. I mean, we have actual human beings who will vote for Trump this Fall because they wholeheartedly feel as if that he is suited to rule as president. That is insane to me. However, what is more shocking is that so many people are only able to give an opinion as far as saying “Trump is a joke,” but beyond the highlight real of inappropriate comments, people are not aware of the actual damage he can cause. There is no real conversation about this dunce, rather half- thoughtful comments. Sure the same could be said within the democratic party, but we are beyond that at this point. This election has completely gone to waste, and we need to take control of our democracy again. This is pathetic, my friends. Let us remember to stay aware of the real issues and not just feed on muck at the surface.

A more personal topic for me is the Black Lives Matter movement, and not just the movement but why it was born in the first place. I remember after the Alton Sterling and Philando Castile murders I received only ONE text from a friend concerned with how I was feeling. Nothing beyond that. That really broke my heart and not because I wanted people check on me personally, but because I realized the lack of conversation around this very important issue. I thought amongst my very friends, and with a good amount of them being white, that made me feel very uncomfortable. Opinions on the issue aside, remaining silent will never do good. No change has ever come through silence. It’s just mind blowing that while being in college with some of the smartest people I will ever meet, many seem incapable of being concerned with the problems that are not directly affecting them or that cannot be solved with a calculator. It is almost unbearable being on a campus amidst innovators and creative thinkers from all walks of life and yet we can’t get our sh*t together to talk about real issues and cultivate possible solutions in order to create a better future for not only ourselves but our children. Even if you’re afraid of offending someone, that is the point of having a conversation so we can teach each other and work through things responsibly. I personally will not stay silent as we wait for another hashtag to trend (#BLM #France #Turkey).

There are so many things we aren’t even aware of because we are failing to engage in what is going on around the world, or even amongst our own friends. Is it because of the lack of wonder? Well here I am, wondering why aren’t we talking about it? Even if ‘it’ is not some social injustice because I know that it can be exhausting emerging in genuine empathy of all the wrong in the world, and we simply cannot be on all the time. However, talking about “it" could be telling each other our stories. What is the story behind your most memorable sunrise? What makes you feel lonely? What is the significance behind your favorite song? What are you insecure about? What do you love most about yourself? What is your favorite book and why? Last week my 4 y/o brother told me, “stories are good for your heart,” and that really resonated with me. It is amazing how much little kids can teach us. So, engulf me with your reasoning, tell me your story. 

I know there’s conversation around the above topics I mentioned, but from me to you and as a friend, why aren’t we having them?... and if they are there let's have them more often. Let’s talk. We all need to start talking to each other again. Not just on a minimal scale because anyone can post a hashtag, but we need to be willing to voice why we are feeling and not just wait for someone else to do it for us. There’s plenty of time to talk about boy drama or the three girls you hooked up with this past week, but how about we appreciate each others time more than that. I mean if that is really what’s occupying your mind at the moment then go for it, but be about something more than that the rest of the time. I believe we can do ourselves, the world, and future generations some good if we actually talked to each other again. The beautiful thing about writing is that I get relief on expressing how I feel, but that can never surpass authentic conversation. There is no connection stronger than a love for one another brought through intellect. So let’s teach each other, and let us listen, and let us feel. Talk to me about literally anything, but just make sure you really talk to me. I want to here the passion in your voice about your love for cars, your love for the arts, equality, that song that you just can’t get out of your head, the newest gadget you got.. literally talk to me about anything, just really give it to me. The best feeling in the world is when you have the ability to vibe with someone's intellect no matter how different that may be from your own. Darling, you are so much more interesting than that drunken haze you cannot remember. There are BILLIONS of people in the world who will have their share of stories about the every day, but how about you tell me something a little less generic? How about you tell me about something real. Never forget that we are all living and experiencing our own reality. Our conscious is like our very own universe so full of wonder and complexity and chaos and beauty. Once you get a grip on that concept, you’ll understand where I am coming from. Aren’t you curious? 

Just as important as the depth of conversation is our ability to listen to each other on why X, Y, and Z matters. Why does it matter? What does it make you feel? Stop simply waiting for your next opportunity to talk. I will never understand the same as another and it is inevitable that others will know something I am completely benighted by, and that is wonderful because it grants me a chance to grow. Remember this: Ignorance is not bliss. Ignorance should be feared. Bliss is in overcoming ignorance. Listening is a glorious pathway to new understanding and perspective. So with that I dare you to be multidimensional and let a voice of another enlighten you and simultaneously foster a wonderful bond as you will always tie that lesson to that someone. How special is that?

We are all born with a voice and therefore we are all born artist as we can paint the most vivid pictures with our words, so give me a glimpse into your reality. And as we listen to one another we can string together a melody of a new lesson learned and a new perspective gained, as we let our heart dance along.

I hope you get it. Whatever you are passionate about, let’s talk about it. There are aspects of our relationships amongst each other as people that are simply absent, and we cannot find our missing piece and begin to love more without effort. Let’s begin searching for solutions by being real and talking with equal parts listening. I dare you to be extensive in many dimensions and be about something genuine. 

Much love, Mi.

"I am SD and SD is home. I am home and that brings me so much peace."

You know I felt very weird coming back to San Diego this summer. Since going away to UW I have definitely changed and I have grown a lot. I was hanging out with my dear friend Lisa and we were talking about life, and she asked me if I thought I had made the right choice to go to UW. I told her that I knew I made the right choice because I was happier than I was two years ago, at some point I had to let the wonder go and really embrace what I have in Seattle.

This past year I was in a really good place. I am more confident, happy, and I am surrounded by some very amazing people who have pushed me harder than anything I have experienced before. As happy as I was there, that left how I would feel coming back to San Diego in question. 

As a military brat I have constantly struggled defining where and what ‘home’ was. I was born in Georgia and from there moved around about every four years. Finally my family moved to San Diego, and we have been here the longest out of any other place I have lived. But, when you think about it I haven’t even lived here for more than half of my life.

I think lacking that sense of stability of what home is, really bothered me in the sense of security. A lot of my friends would talk about going back home where they were born and raised, or have spent the majority of their life, and I was still having an internal conflict of what that meant to me. 

For a while I would describe home as where my heart was, which you can obviously point to my family, but the past few weeks and conversations I’ve had with people who have known me for the past 8 years, have made me rethink my thoughts on what home is to me.

Alongside my family, I have begun to accept San Diego as home.

When it comes down to it, I am a byproduct of this place in almost every single aspect. Of course I will always have a soft spot for the places I lived and especially Georgia, heck you might hear my southern drawl in certain words I speak (inside joke circa 2011: “I read…”) and look at me weird when I refer to something differently than you, but that isn’t enough to define what home is or isn't.

I have gone through so much here with salt water lips and the costal breeze whipping across my face and it has all taught me how to love and live the way that I do now.

I am San Diego by the way I act, think, advocate, dress, enjoy my free time, and my love of wearing flip- flops as much as I can. I am SD by the way I maneuver the path down to No Surf, and my Ortiz burritos. I am SD by the way I fell in love with wall ball when I moved here, the way I fell in love with the spanish language, the way that I know these streets unlike any other,  the way I will wake up when no one else is out just to catch the sunrise at the cliffs, and it brings me the most clarity. And the list goes on…

But more importantly, I am SD because of the people who have granted me with some of the best memories and relationships I will go on to tell my grandchildren about.

At Jay and Brittany’s wedding I had a core group of people there (minus karlin and some non-band kids), who have seen me at my lows, who have seen the way I look in the wee hours of the morning after a band competitions (which is rough), and who I have the weirdest yet most comfortable relationships with. 

On the way home from the wedding I was just happy. I had time to catch up and laugh with these people who I will always think and care about to some capacity, no matter what. On the long drive home I was just buzzing. Earlier my good friend Jake and I were a little anxious to see how this night would go and it exceeded our expectations for sure. And when trying to figure out why, this is what I came up with: We all had to spend so much time together and got to know each other well during the peek of our hormonal and emotional drama filled teenage years, and have seen each other through ugly times, but since moving past that and focusing on what is in front of us now, we can bypass the awkward small- talk and just fall into things like it was 2008 or 2010 or 2012… It felt comfortable and right.

My heart was so happy and it still tingles a little bit. Being here gives me a little something that Washington, or Hawaii, or any other place I’ve been to, will never do. Obviously there will be exceptions of people who I have met and will meet down the road, but this place and these people will be who I smile the most with when I see them in the coming years, and what I will reminisce upon the most when I think of my childhood.

I have a long way until I really have a grip on who I am, but if there is one thing this trip has taught me…it is that I am SD and SD is home. I am home and that brings me so much peace, no matter where my future leads me.

To my past teachers, old coaches, teammates, band kids, and friends beyond: Thank you for bringing me home. 

Much Love.

Here are some mems that make this home:

I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HAPPENED

I was planning on spending the summer in Seattle so I could work and spend time with my roomies who are all leaving me for bigger and better next year.But I knew I was going to have to come home for my knee so I could return to the pitch next year and I finally got my surgery date. After two years of dealing with this pain and discomfort soon it would all be over.

Thursday, I was in the car with my mom and I told her my thumb had been bothering me and she took a look at them and told me to go to urgent care. I was thinking it was a simple dislocation, they’d pop it back in and I will be on my way, but nope.

As my doctor begins to explain what he believe was wrong I sat there and chuckled and he asked what was wrong. I chuckled for three reasons. One: He was explaining the same thing I had surgery for 2 years ago 3 fingers down. Two: I knew my mom was not going the be happy about it. Three (and for those of you wondering): I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HAPPENED TO IT.

Now I have this stupid splint on my hand and I personally think it is a little much, but my cousins and brother sure were amused. 

Honestly, I am so over being injured. As I have gotten older sports have become more important to me. At the same time, as I have gotten older the more they have been taken away from me. 

...

It is starting to get to me mentally. Senior year of high school, I was benched with injury the entire season except for 3minutes of our senior night game. My team went on to win CIF for the first time in I think 20years? That was hard. I felt useless. Not including cheer, basketball was the first sport I had ever played and it was just taken just like that. That was a humbling period in my life, where I learned the power of voice and how to lead through that when I couldn’t lead physically. To this day I thank my teammates who continued to allow me to really be a part of that team. 

… 

I’ve had other minor injuries since as every athlete does. Throughout my freshman year at UW my knee was okay but after hurting it running, I knew I had to deal with it and I knew that meant not playing this past season. Go figure, they win regionals (pretty convincingly), and made it to nationals. Sure we have some room to grow, but we played some beautiful lacrosse throughout the season. Like, my teammates are BABs. Being on this team and being able to produce physically on the field can be an important point of evaluation on how people view you, and although I know what I am capable of, there were many points where I felt inadequate. However I eventually let that go because I was able to grow in many other ways this past year. The bright side of being able to watch every game with detail, taking stats, and putting a word in when appropriate, was that it showed me a new aspect of the game and I was able to not worry so much about myself and how I was doing and more on my teammates.

…

I guess this random thumb thing just really got to me the past 24 hours. At my core I am many things, but a good chuck of that is that I am an athlete. I am a competitor. I have the some of my favorite memories on the field/ court chasing people down and being their worst nightmare in any sport ( except softball.. can’t really do that). That spirit touches everything I do.

On one end I am sick of getting injured, I can’t run in a game or around with my future kids with a beat up body that is constantly aching. And on the other side of that coin, I am scared to get hurt again. I am scared of the repercussions of that next injury. I know that is a realistic fear for every athlete but the past few years have been draining. I am determined to leave high- competitive sports behind on my own terms and not because they were taken away by injury, but until then I will always have that thought of "what-if" in the back of my head.

No matter the outcome I want to be and will be better for it. Sports have given so much to me and as cheesy as it might sound, sometimes I forget why I play in the first place.As nervous as I am to step on the pitch again, I guess I am equally as excited. I want to embrace every moment of the next two years. I have been reminded of what being an athlete really means to a person. I know I still have some playing time under my belt but I love to plan ahead and I know I’m gonna miss it. So Let’s Do It. Up Up UW.

The Queen Visits Seattle

On Wednesday, May 18th 2016 I was able to witness the best entertainer out there and arguably the most powerful and influential artist over the past decade. If you haven’t figured it out by now, I am talking about BEYONCÉ. YONCÉ. QUEEN BEY.

Now I don’t want to sit here and brag about every single detail because I don’t think I have the words to formulate what I was able to experience with my fellow Sasha Fierce lovers (S/O Erika, Ya, Cam).

Now that I have had time to get over my PBS (post Beyoncé slump)… I do want to quickly mention are three thoughts thoughts/moments that really resonated with me during the concert.

1. Her confidence is so empowering. Now let’s be real for a moment, she is a very beautiful woman and everyone can appreciate her for her looks BUT I’m sure she has insecurities. The crazy thing is that you wouldn’t be able to tell by the way she embraces HER sexy. I was telling my roomie that as much as some people might feel less than while kicking it with Bey on the beach in a two piece, I would feel like the most powerful woman in the world (second to B). I just think that, that is a really special quality when you can empower another woman (or man) that way instead of making them feel inferior, or tearing them down.

2. When she preformed Me, Myself, and I my heart stopped. I have sung that song so much and it has just been one of those songs that have really gotten me through on those off- days. Through all that I have been through it’s really helped me when I think of the relationship I have with myself. I love the people in my life so much and sometimes I think that, that is enough but I forget that loving myself is equally important. You can’t just rely on others because no other persons love for you will ever compare to the love you have for yourself. They just don’t do quite the same job.. they’re really two kinds of love.

3. Halo… She closed with that song, and that did it for me. I don’t think anyone (not even my lovely mother) knows that when that song first came out, the first person I thought about was my little sister. I was dealing with a difficult transition to California and Beyoncé had released her 'I am… Sasha Fierce' record and this song just clicked with me.

I just feel like my sister is there with me when I sing this song. I start thinking about who she would be proud to call a big sister. I think about who would be a good role model for her. I think about who would be lucky enough to be graced by her bright light. It makes me think about how lucky I am to be living another day despite certain circumstances. God blessed me with a little brother at another important time in my life and I am able to now sing this to him as another reminder as to what I want to leave behind.. what I want my legacy to be.

So yes, singing Love on Top to B with thousands of others was beyond amazing.

Getting to shout Survivor at the top of my lungs was empowering. 

Learning not to always say Sorry and to tell that boy bye was important.

Seeing Cam in her element was great.

Being shown that the best kind of drunk is being Drunk In Love. 

And learning when to get in Formation was crucial. 

That night will forever be etched in memory.

Live. Love. Yoncé.

'I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends' ft. LUZ

I  remember walking into band camp the summer before my freshman year of high school and seeing some girl playing in the hall with some bouncy ball and weird stick thing. I would come to find that she was playing lacrosse and that girl was Luz and would turn out to be a very important to me. 

When I joined band I instantly noticed everyone loved Luz. She was THAT person. She was a junior and I was a little freshie. She had the looks, smarts, personality, and of course she IS a bada** trumpet player. To be short, I was intimidated (I believe that she just didn’t think I was cool at first, but that’s another story). 

The first clear interaction I remember engaging in with her was literally moments after I became freshman class president. I didn't think anyone would care, but I went to the band room and out of nowhere Luz comes up to me and gives me a big hug and yells “CONGRATULATIONS” . I was a tad bit confused at her actions because I totally thought she wouldn't care.

Later that night when I shook the confusion of what happened, I just sat and thought to myself, “wow that was really nice.” Ever since, I never doubt anything she does. 

Luz is:

My BOO

A soon to be UCLA graduate

Mid-key saucy
A fellow Husky lover

Hardworking
A fellow Com Major

A trumpet player

Family oriented 

Great

Humble

A former member of the beloved Platypus Crew:

Now, I can go on about WHAT I love about Luz, but I can’t tell you why…Let me explain:

When I think about our friendship its not typical. It’s not like my friend Ilish and I (you’ll here about her later). I don’t really talk to her as often and sometimes we go months and at one point a year or more without seeing each other in person ( A reminder the 'Real Life' is a thing and I am not excited about it).

Despite that being the majority of the past six years, if you stick us on a high school band trip to Disneyland one random summer (last summer to be exact), it’ll seem like the exact opposite. 

I’m writing this with Luz as a focal point, but this sort of thing is applicable to some of my other fiends as well and I am so appreciative of that. I am appreciative because they provide me with confidence in relationships that I didn’t have growing up as a military brat. I don’t have those friends from kindergarten or 1st grade, but I have a Luz, and a Kaitlyn, and a Jake… 

Till this day, when you become my friend and if we get close to any degree I hold on to that tightly. It’s not because I'm crazy, but I’m just afraid that if I let go I will lose something special, like I feared I have before. That anxiety has been engrained in me, but in a weird way I’m grateful, because I have learned how to cherish things in a really beautiful way. 

Thankfully Luz and others have embraced me for who I am and have reciprocated my love, being there to love me through it all... and that love always brings me back.

‘Through love comes peace’

PS- To my Vanguard Leadership Camp crew circa 2011: "Stop...Don't look at me."

Dear Mama

To be honest, I thought that this would be the easiest thing to write. However I am quickly realizing how difficult it is to write something about someone who means the absolute world to you because you just want to get it right. But even though I won't capture everything, there are some things that I know to be true...

I would not be the person I am today if it were not for my mother. We are so much alike sometimes it scares me and even though we bump heads sometimes, she will always be my #1.

My mom is my warrior:

When she left my father my mom tells me about how hard that was to be young taking care of two kids on her own but she pushed through. She knew what was best for us and herself no matter the sacrifices she had to make in the moment and continue to give my brothers and I the world.

My mom is selfless:

When my stepdad would get deployed and I was in elementary school there was a shift. To put it simply, I wasn't that nice when he'd leave and even my 4th grade teacher noticed. But when he wasn't there my mom would always go that extra mile after a long day at work to make it to all of my games and to show up to my practices. And for me, that meant the world.

My mom always made sure I got what I needed:

When I was loopy on pain meds after hand surgery she made sure I got my strawberry eggo waffles and chicken nuggets.

No but really....

When I get stressed and frustrated she has always been my sense of reason, and makes sure to text me the next morning reminding me that she loves me and to embrace the new day and make the most out of it.

My is my number one fan:

I know how boring it is sitting in the audience at band concerts, but if it was important to me she'd be there.

When I started playing lacrosse, the only thing she understood was that I couldn't step in the crease, but would come straight from work to see me play anyway.

Most importantly my mom loved me.
 I can go on forever about what she has done for me, but at the end of the day it comes down to the fact that my mom did her job. Everyone loves their parent(s) in their own way and can depend on them, but not everyone has that privilege. Through every thing that goes on I have been so lucky to have my mom there. She has shown me what it means to love, to be selfless, and that is the greatest gift anyone has ever given me.

Hey Mama by Kanye... RIP Ms. West
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__N2Pd9fcBU