Pen Pals: Letter 1/ Response

Dear Bryant,

I'm so sorry it has taken me so long to respond to your e-mail.  I've been in England for the past week.  I'm gonna try to answer your questions with an experience I had on the plane from Liverpool to Berlin:  Two rows from my seat I could see a man (he's white) flirting with a girl (also white) who he obviously didn't know.  Watching the two of them saddened me, not because I wanted him to flirt with me, but because I knew he would never even give it a thought.  In his mind, I’m probably not beautiful.  In his mind, I’m the perpetual foreigner, the individual that represents the outside that continues to invade his world.  Knowing this, even while he may not consciously understand it himself, is what sometimes makes this trip a difficult one. 

Being in Europe, mother of America and the origin of whiteness can sometimes be very uncomfortable.  Walking down the street I can see people staring at my hair, my skin, my nose right through to my very soul, unnerving me as though they were forcing the clothes right off me.  Sometimes, this makes me feel embarrassed, other times angry, that they don’t see me, but only my blackness.  Over the past two months, I’ve come to realize just how displaced we black people, African-Americans/Negros/whatever actually are.  In Europe and even in America, no matter how large our population swells we will always be foreigners forever marked by the hyphen that divides us from a true citizenship. 

And the saddest part is that it wouldn’t be any better in Africa.  I don’t speak any African languages; know any African customs, hell I don’t even know which part of the continent I come from!  Not to mention the fact that my skin tone alone would brand me as inauthentic. 

I know that these are some heavy and distressing thoughts, but I’m telling you because no one else could understand.  I’m the only black person in my program and there are some days when I don’t even see any other black people at all.  I need to know that I’m not going crazy, that we do exist, that we do have a home, that we at least love ourselves even when the rest of the world refuses to even see us.

I hope this answered your questions.  If not, to put it shortly: The day I realized I was black was a sad one.  It was sad because someone else forced me to see my blackness and it was a negative experience that for a long time shaped the way I saw myself.  If I had realized my blackness for myself through my own eyes, then maybe it would have been a more positive experience. 

I’m really happy for you Bryant.  I hope the things you say you want aren’t just meaningless words.  I really do believe in your strength as a leader, a friend and a man. 

Thanks,

Shannon

Pen Pals: Letter to my Proffesor

Professor Harris,
Greetings first and foremost. As you have probably learned of the events that have taken place in Detroit where another innocent life was taken, I am frustrated.  Frustrated past the point of theorizing and learning and to the point of mobilization and action.  I know the problems that surround our people but I honestly do not know where to start in order to solve these problems.  How can you make a people realize that the things they were socialized to love are really destructive?  Our people have been plagued with the ideals of individualism, submission, accommodationism, and inferiorism.  After the news of another innocent black killed by the police, I went into a deep reflection about all the systemic faults in the black community.  My friends and I are outraged and looking for a solution.  I came to you because I noticed that you and I have similar perspectives after taking your Intro to Black Politics class this last spring.  Please advise me on the steps I should take to solving these problems.

Bryant Brown

Random Thoughts Vol. 2

-Learning is a disease. If you don’t learn you will live forever. Not life in terms of age, but in terms of ignorance. I dream to die young.

-Black women’s hair should be a class in college .  

It’s so complex that it could probably be a major with a concentration. In fact, that subject might be the hardest major ever. Classes would include, hair history ,

hair literature, hair biology, hair philosophy

, hair political theory, hair art

, women and hair, human sexuality and hair, grammar and hair, freshman hair seminar, hair theory, French hair

, Spanish hair, German hair, hair in fiction, Black hair since 1940, Black hair before 1940, and Black naps and society.

I guess the moral of this thought is I can’t go to beauty school.


-Best friend connections are amazing. Regardless how often or not you talk or see them, the great connection still remains.

 
-Last night, I had a dream/nightmare that somehow I had to go back to my middle school as a grown 20-year-old-man because of some justified political-educational loop hole. I woke up scared senseless. I’m not sure it was repeating what I once despised or the fear of regression that that petrified me the most.

 
-How tall is Spike Lee for real? I wonder if he will ever put out a movie as good as Do the Right Thing.

-What ever happen to the art of the Black movie? Black films used to be controversial and impacting. The movies of Robert Townsend, Spike Lee, John Singleton, Melvin Van Peebles, Keenan Ivory Wayans, and Gordon Parks that would express the plight of blacks while displaying black pride and black traditions. Nowadays, Black film is just drama and comedy with no substance. Where are the black love stories like Jason’s Lyric

  and Love and Basketball? Where are the black films that show blacks in the aspects of black culture? Movies like Do the Right Thing, The Inkwell,

Boyz in the Hood, Friday, and Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song?

Where are the films that showcase the greatness (good and bad) of black society? The movies like New Jack City, American Gangster, The Five Heartbeats, Head of State, Roots, Glory, The Color Purple, and Men of Honor. Where are the BLACK FILMS?

The Ugly Show

I used to be a pretty serious poet way back in the day.  This is Black Ice's "The Ugly Show."  By far one of my favorite poems of all time.  Listen to the words and see if you are not inspired for change.  You house niggas might not get it, but bare with me for 2 minutes and 39 seconds.

Random Thoughts Vol. 1

-Bad Guys/ Villains are cool because their power is not contained by society’s morals.

-Many people see racial segregation as a bad thing. If the two races were separated, which do you think would be more powerful? Honestly, if the United States surrendered 3 states as an act of reparations, and blacks were given complete sovereignty and independence; those 3 states would be a new and improved world.

-I guess that makes me a villain.

-I kissed my girlfriend last night and I liked it…a lot.








-Sometimes I think I like her more than she likes me, but she said yes so I aint trippin.


-Why do white people want to be like black people without the black problems? It’s like in Aladdin when Jafar wanted to be a genie without wanting the pains of being a genie. Whites want the full lips and hips like our women. They want the big dicks and swag like our men. Get the fuck off my cultures dick.

-“Shit” and “This” are spelled with the same letters. It’s kind of like they were meant for each other.

-When I’m writing, I don’t think, “Damn, that’s a mean ass preposition I just wrote.” I feel that my job as a writer is to make people forget the theory of words and enjoy the magic of the art. In music, people who don’t study the art don’t listen to the music and say, “Damn, that tuba in the 15th phrase of the 3rd movement hit a means as pedal 9th that was off the chain.” No! They enjoy the magic of the art. To the artist, the theory is important but not meant to be noticed in the actual art.

I wonder what it feels like to be “passing?” How do you cope with seeing all these black folks?

Why capitalize the word “i?”

If “I” before “e” except after “c” then science is spelled all the way wrong.

Pen Pals: Letter 1/Realizations

Dear Shannon,



I will start this letter by adding the most obvious statement in letter writing. I hope this letter reaches you in good health. In addition, I hope this letter makes it you without being half way opened and any mysterious blacked out lines from the German governments attempt to censor this letter. As a mater of fact, I should be more concerned about the American Bureau of Censorship doing those things. ABC…Get it? You know like the T.V. station that blinds people from seeing the truth in real world issues by throwing four unattractive, over promiscuous, 40 year old women in the face of America.

Attached to this letter you will also find a copy of “Awaken,” to inspire you. You remember? The only blog you have cried after reading it.

Although it is late in the latter, I want to know how are you doing? Are you feeling homesick like Scoby from White Boy Shuffle? Speaking of which, I would for when you to come back to the states and see me as the fore running leader of a black conscience revolution. That would be a huge dream come true for you and me. I promise you that I have not given up on that dream or my people.

I’m taking a few classes this semester that are increasingly expanding my thinking and solidifying my perspective in black political theory, but I will explain that in another letter.

Here is a question that I was asked in one of my classes that I would love for you to answer: When did you realize that you were black? Was it a happy day? Or do you remember being in pain?

I was searching my mind and I ran across a memory of us just kickin’ it in my car. There may have been sexual activity, but my mid focused on how we used to just chill and be happy. I ain’t getting all sappy and shit, I’m just realizing the real friendship we have. It’s amazing how our friendship has lasted the tear of time. Or is it wear of time?

I don’t know how long this letter is supposed to be but here is my address:

Bryant Brown

[insert address]


Do not answer any of theses questions unless they are in the response of this letter. And be long winded. Remember who you are and what made you.



This Nigga



Bryant Brown