The Forces Against Me

Today was the first day of the winter 2014 civil rights trip, most of which we spent on the bus traveling south. On the way we visited a museum which in itself catalogued hundreds of people that died in the name of civil rights, then later at A&T we spoke to a person who himself fought for civil risks well knowing there was a risk of serious injury or death. On our ride to the hotel, we were given a quote by Dave Dennis and in short, we were asked if there was any cause that we would die for. Many students said that there is no single cause that they would be willing to die for. From what I could discern this is mostly because they have not had any profound personal connection to said causes. I, on the other hand, have. Even as a 17 year old young adult, I rest assured in knowing that I would not feel that my death would be in vain if I died for the one thing the denounces my being to a manifestation of weakness and insignificance: misogyny.

Ever since before I even knew what the entity of misogyny was, I knew its function in society, I knew it very well. There were plenty of times in my childhood where I would hear the phrase "you need to toughen up" "you're a sissy" and all of the likes. It was because even as a child I was always flamboyant and to some extent feminine. As I matured, these characteristics developed with strength as did all of my other characteristics. The older I got, the more negative connotations my characteristics bore. I was constantly subjected to the stereotype of the big strong black man, who was always expected to use brute force or his domineering presence alone to make it through. Where my stereotype would use brute force, I would use my intellect and articulation. Where my stereotype would use intimidation,  I would relish in interpersonal relations. The list is endless. I cannot count how many times I would visit family members and hear "you got big boy, you play football?" And I would innately be far too embarrassed to admit that I was at every football game, but instead on the sidelines as a cheerleader.  Or instead of being a basketball player, I'm a modern dancer. Or instead of a rapper, I'm a pianist.

It is this same embarrassment that I carry with me to job interviews, college interviews, auditions, etc. The  fear of misogyny that forces me to hide who I really am is the same fear that I want to be non existent in future generations. I live for the day that people like me are not afraid to express them selves, when being flamboyant doesn't instill a feeling of inferiority, when femininity doesn't mean weakness. And if I die in the process, so be it.

Chance, City College