My Weekend with BLAC

Hello, everyone!

This weekend I had the privilege of attending Teach for America's Black Leaders and Achievers Caucus (BLAC) in NYC where a group of young, Black leaders from a variety of colleges in New York gathered to discuss what it means to be Black leaders and how we can work towards education equity in our communities. When I first heard about this amazing opportunity, I figured it would be a chance for me to learn how I can work towards making changes for students of color at Marist. What ended up happening was totally unexpected.

As we dove into conversations surrounding our identities, how we made it to where we are in our lives, what we are doing on our college campuses, and what it means to be a Black male or female, I did a lot of self-reflection on my own circumstances and essentially had an "A-ha!" moment. I realized that the kind of thought-provoking conversations we were having was something that was missing in my life and have not happened since I graduated from high school. It also made me realize that I am not happy in my current situation, and I need to make some changes in my life. I have always enjoyed speaking with like-minded individuals who were just as passionate as I am about being Black and who wanted to make an impact on their communities. Not only did I learn about myself and what I want to do in my life right now, I figured out a career path that I have been battling with for awhile now: teaching.

When I tell people I am an English major, the first question they ask is, "Oh, you want to be a teacher?" and sometimes the tone comes off as condescending (or maybe I am just extremely sensitive). I always laugh and say no, but I have struggled it with it because although I've looked up to my teachers who made such an impact on me and wanted to do the same for the next generation, I wondered if it would be enough for me to feel like I accomplished something. After speaking with my peers and the staff of Teach for America who were present, I realized we all felt the same. Why not go into teaching, Jada? Be like your NSA teachers! 

I have learned more about myself in the last two days, talking to people who looked like me, were experiencing similar things as me, and who wanted to make a difference in their communities, than I have in my first as a college student. Some changes have to be made. I am so fired up (in a good way) to do something meaningful instead of trying to get by in school. 

I would like to thank my extended family, Ali and McIntire, for letting me know about this caucus. I would also like to thank my young, Black brothers and sisters who helped to reignite a passion in me to do my part as a Black woman on my campus and to also work towards heading back to Newark eventually to give back. That is what my high school taught me: And when you succeed, what will you do? Give back to others.

I'm on a mission. I will keep you all posted.

Much love,
Jay

I Am Woman

This is a man's world...
This is a man's world--but it wouldn't be nothing without a woman.

A woman.

Woman finds herself deep in love with man, invested in man,
losing herself trying to love him so he will love her at the same magnitude.
Woman will do anything to keep her man, so she gives him all of her being, allowing him to suck life out of her.
Woman can't even remember who she is without her man.
And man becomes so accustomed to woman asking nothing of him--he can't be changed.
Then woman finds herself stuck...and unhappy,
because she loves her man.
Woman will drown in her own tears before she walks out on man,
losing her mind, going half-crazy, letting him dominate the essence of her being.

This can't be woman...

So what does it mean to be woman?

Aimes-toi--love yourself.
Love yourself enough to know you deserve better.
Understand that your kind of love is special.
Find your inner beauty when you stare at your reflection, turn your scars into art, stories.
Loving yourself also means respecting yourself.
Respect your mind and your body for they are sacred.

Know thyself.
Know who you are, what you want, where you stand, so that you'll never lower your standards for one-night stands and five minutes of insane pleasure.
Know that you will never need a man to fulfill you, his only job is to complement what is already established so he can never ever break you or make you feel broken.

Walk with grace, elegance.
Stand tall.
Dress with class.
Speak with intelligence.
Build your empire.

So when you finally see your reflection you can say,

I am woman.

Scratch that--

I am Queen.

Flashback Friday: Finding Girl: Synthesis of Dark Phrases by Ntozake Shange

This poem is about two years old. At the time, I had fallen absolutely in love with the movie, For Colored Girls. I know a lot of people cannot watch that movie because it is so much to take in, but I watched it because of the poetry. I researched for days on who was the writer behind these beautiful pieces and discovered that it was Ntozake Shange. I immediately begged my mother to take me to Barnes & Noble, and I purchased her chorepoem, for colored girls who have considered suicide/when the rainbow is enuf. I was so captivated by the language and the stories of the characters that I took it upon myself to memorize some of the poetry in the movie (the one I got down-packed was Loretta Devine's towards the end!). I decided to write a poem incorporating lines from one of hers. I plan on doing some sort of reprise of this really soon! Enjoy!

“dark phrases of womanhood, of never havin been a girl”
i am black woman, who has seen the darkest of dark times
times woman can only see
“half-notes scattered, without rhythm/no tune”
my body used and thrown away
my love tampered with, my mind gone
i am all but whole
pieces of me stolen
my song now a distant melody
my ears strain to hear my broken music
“distraught laughter fallin over a black girl’s shoulder”
my sanity now gone
but i smile in their faces
the woman cannot be weak
especially if her skin is of the night sky
“it’s funny/it’s hysterical the melody-less-ness of her dance”
and they laugh at the way i move
the graceful swifts of my arms
contradicting the quick impulsive steps of my short legs
i dance this way for My Love has become nothing
but a contradiction
“don’t tell nobody don’t tell a soul”
the secret rendezvous i’ve had with My Love
deprived me of the little pride i had left
the temptation to proclaim my love was silenced
and now
“i can’t hear anything but maddening screams
and the soft strains of death”
i had given all of myself
in return for the death of my being
i saw my contradictory Love after my demise
wondering why i wasn’t recognizable
“you promised me, you promised somebody/anybody, sing a black girl’s song”
sing me my song, i told My Love
“sing her rhythms, caring/struggle/hard times, sing her song of life”
I am black woman who has seen the darkest of dark times
inflicted upon me
by the Love that had stolen my black girl’s song
“she’s been dead so long, closed in silence so long
she doesn’t know the sound of her own voice, her infinite beauty”
a new sound escapes from me
my own voice 
my inner black girl
“let her be born”
“let her be born and handled warmly”
i give her life

And forever she will live