Howard Homecoming

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor

Being an artist at an HBCU is its own chameleon experience. It was at Howard U that I realized this special brand of Black experience cocktail I am. Part Jack & Jill, part hippie, part underground hip hop head, part Diddy-like entrepreneur, part introverted creative genius, part Blacker-than-thou pan-Africanist, part cooler-than -thou culture snob. Needless to say, I had to pocket my varied groups of friends.

I certainly was not going to get my One Common Unity group to come with me to a step show - and not comment incessantly about how European the whole greek thing is. Nor would I ever see my film department nerds strutting alongside on the catwalk at the homecoming fashion show.

I'm reminded of this issue as I make plans to journey to my alma mater for homecoming this year - I haven't been in over 8 years. I had been too cool as an upperclassman and anxious to start "life" to part take in any of the festivities.

But after being out in the hard and unforgiving working world, I really just want to go back down and do nothing but soak up the overwhelming culture that you don't get every day. Enjoy it. Reminisce.

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Ivy League Degrees vs. Drug Dealer Degrees

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor

I sometimes wonder why I even bothered getting an education. All the late night studying, the massive amount of debt for both undergrad and grad that I’ve barely made a dent in only to work killer hours at a job where I hold a position a hair above an executive assistant. What brought on this rude awakening is the other night ridding home on the A train uptown, damn nearing falling asleep, feet so hurt I’m doing the broken walk down 125 I run into Darnell. Darnell and I grew up around the same way, never were really tight or hung out in fact the only time I would see him is when I went to the corner store where he would be standing in front of selling drugs. One of those types of dudes that your parents told you to stay away from. I heard he got locked up and I hadn’t seen him since I moved back to Harlem from school, so I was surprised when he recognized and acknowledged me first. Darnell was dress to the nine in some Rico Suave chocolate brown suite and indigo blue collar shirt with some cuff links and smooth shoes. The first thing I thought was that he’s clearly moved up in the drug game but no. Turns out GED earning Darnell now runs a legitimate restaurant business in Harlem, has two kids a wife and a house in Connecticut and working on some new investment opportunities after getting financially savvy from reading in jail. Had I known jail had a better return on investment than school I would have been done sold some crack.

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