Letter To My Son

To my son,

Only time will tell if this letter will be applicable.  If my destiny sees fit, you will be created as a product of genetics, my love, and my dreams.  It is at this time in my 21 years of being under these stars that I have chosen to reach out to you and share the lessons I have learned.  Not doing so would be irresponsible on my part.  Depending on the age that you begin to fully comprehend these words, you will realize that all the lessons I teach you presently and in this letter will be feeble if seen in a dark room.  In addition, you will know that all lessons cannot be learned by spoken word.  Rightfully so, you will challenge the limits of this societies so call standards.  As your father, I will fear for your consequences, but, as my son, I trust you will lay gravel for your own dirt road of your standards of magnanimity.  Even as I type this letter to you I find it very difficult to choose what to tell you and what you should find out on your own.  I guess this is what parenthood really is. 

While I write to a son that I have yet to create, I find pointless to give you the numbers to life’s everyday Sudoku puzzle.  If our futures are meant to collide, I will gladly show you the strategy of filling in each box.  That’s a guarantee.  Instead, I will give you the clues to your daily crossword puzzle of manhood.  Take heed to them but also recognize that as this letter, I am also not perfect. 

With that being said, across 15 is simple.  You will struggle.  At this point in my life, I have come to the revelation that the distress I’ve endured have made the beautifully tattered man writing this letter.  Only time will tell how far this tattered soul will get me but I have high hopes.  The cliché that I have created in my time is -No Struggle.  No Identity- meaning that when something you do becomes part of who you are, expect struggle.  At the same time, do not seek struggle to validate your existence, but don’t stray from it either.  As your father, I will shield you from all the agony targeted for you as long as I can.  As time progresses, with the disapproval from my own psyche, I will remove the plastic from life’s couch and let you experience its stains and abundant opulence.  Because you are my son and I am my father’s son and he a son of his father, you will be able to rid of the stains without ruining the material and handle the abundant opulence without getting stuck in its settling nature. 

Speaking of lineage, you come from a long line of proud Brown men.  The funny thing about pride is it can be the greatest advantage while also being your greatest disadvantage.  Imagine a disease that gives you unlimited strength but kills you a little bit faster every time you use it.  Pride has killed a lot of men.  You will need to find the balance between the destructive pride and the advantageous pride. 

Down 22 is a more difficult clue for me to give insight on because I have yet to figure out the word myself.  Let love be your conscience.  Try not to accede to hate and mistrust consuming you.  As you grow intellectually, you will notice that certain things will be uncontrollable in your eyes.  When the anger and lack of control are mixed in your heart, you get a martini of hate with olives made of despair.  Then you will begin to stagger away from the ones who have invested love in you.  Your speech of peace will begin to slur.  Your memories of happiness will fade away.  And one morning you will wake up from your intoxication with a lonesome induced hangover.  Your father has been drunk many times but my 12 step program is in full effect. 

I do not know if I should give you across 2.  I could force upon you the lessons about who you are as a black man or let you learn these lessons painfully.  You may ask why but as your life progresses, you will answer that same question.  What I will say is do not be ashamed of who you are and what you came from.  I cannot predict the obscure future of our people.  Yes, our people.  Treat them as such.  The rest you will figure out on your own.

Lastly, down 44.  A day will come when you learn that fiction is not true.  Most people say that this knowledge is the first step into the “real world.”  At first this pseudo-truth will hinder you and make your outlook on life mauve.  This “real world” they speak of is a product of their despair created by the energy they used to stop chasing their dreams.  You can live in a life of pure imagination, and as my favorite song quotes “There is no life I know that compares to pure imagination.”  I say even the most fantastic things are true.    Throughout this entire letter I have chosen not input my experiences and demand you of anything because I recognize that you will live your own life.  Right now, I will not become victim to the fallacy that by telling you and that.  Instead I say, mess up and learn.  But, if I am to make one demand of you it is to not stop chasing your dreams for they are the only things keeping us away from the ground.

Resisting Gravity,

Your father, Bryant Brown

I Dream of Detroit

I dream of words unwritten;
      In a language where periods need not be dotted
      Where “t’s” need not be crossed-
I dream of dialects unspoken;
      In a voice enunciation need not to be stressed,
      Where infliction is definitions-
Sight through subconscious is unfathomed to the minds eye
Leaving dreams to be safe from
For what can one feel in the absence of a body?
The lack there of? Or the presence of obscurity?
I dream of music unplayed;
      In a sound only heard through script,
Where distance articulates quality-
I dream of things unseen and not to have happened;
      Retention is a curse, and the forgotten is blessed-
But as I rise from once was;
      I’ve lost it all-
I dream of words unsaid;
      Cursed by memory.
      Decided through ignorance.

Beautifully Spoken

I went to church on Sunday and my overall standpoint was confusion. After studying and hearing many lectures on the black church last semester, I went with a new outlook and understanding. The black church was created during the era of slavery as a way to spread culture and social understanding throughout the enslaved Africans and the so-called new Americans. It was in these initial groups that blacks became socially and politically conscious. As time continued, the social gatherings became more than sneaking out at night to meet with others and developed into a more organized structure in which religion was practiced. As I sat in church, I could see how the origins of the black church are still practiced in the black church today. All types of black folk gathered in this church house to fellowship and share cultural and political ideas with one another. From talks to how to make cornbread fluffier to heated arguments about individual’s political fundamentals, I was amused and elated to see that in this structural compound our ancestors’ effort were not lost. Beautiful music was played as people rejoiced and praised the God they worshiped with no fear of prosecution or social judgment. The tears nearly came to my eyes when I realized that the ones that came before me were, at one point, happy because in this place, this house of worship, blacks could be themselves.

But on this Sunday, I heard a sermon that bothered me. The minister preached and made a point stating that blacks should change their language patterns in order to be more successful in the modern world. To me, this is a message of assimilation. Since I claim to be a free thinker, I sat down and thought about the minister’s point. In this world there are things that are socially acceptable and culturally acceptable. On the other side, there are things that are socially unacceptable and culturally unacceptable. All this meaning that there are certain things one can do it their culture that are not socially acceptable and there are things one can do in society and are not culturally acceptable. When pertaining to blacks, there are some things that blacks do within their culture that are not acceptable to American society's culture and there are things blacks can do in American society and is not accepted in their culture. One of those things is the use of broken English, slang, or Ebonics. According to society, by using this broken English you are lowering your standards and your social status. In essence, society's impression of you is low. This minster says blacks should change their culture from speaking broken English to speaking perfect English in order to fit in with the rest of society and be socially acceptable.

As my mother taught me a long time ago, in many situations, there is a time and a place for everything. When one wants to sound intelligent one speaks intelligently. Does this mean your English must be perfect? In my opinion, no. As a black, you have to know to play the game. The black culture does not hold the majority in American social culture. Therefore, we can not expect everyone to understand the English language we have adapted. When we go into different situations, we speak different ways. This does not mean we discard that part of ourselves entirety in order to fit in with he American society culture. This minister bothered me because he argued that in order for blacks to come off as intelligent to the majority, whites, we must change our language and assimilate it with the majority. The way blacks speak is full of passion and emotion and while it may not be textbook, it is beautiful. Take into consideration I am not talking about all blacks. I am merely speaking to the ones who defy society and choose to embrace ebony phonics.

In an intuition in which blacks, historically, can be themselves this minister tells me I should not. He tells me to conform and forget a part of who I am. He oughta be shamed of himself.

Mr. Morton

"I'm tired payin taxes, sendin emails and faxes, tired of crooked cops, tired of black folks complain that crime wont stop. I wanna go to a place where lovers go, do the things that lovers do, no stress, a sweet caress from me to u."

It's been a long time since I actually attempted to pursue a young lady that was worth my time and actually reached my standards. The time has come where I have met such a woman. Now, I'm baffled at how to handle this situation. I going to be blunt, I have failed many times in these types of situations, many times.
Needless to say I'm trying really hard not to fuck this one up. The problem is I keep second guessing myself. I don't wanna creep her out by talking too much and at the same token I don't want to not talk and make her think I'm not interested, cause I am. It's been a long time since I've had to do this. Maybe, I should just be myself. Problem is myself is the same person that was fucking up in the past. I know she should like me for me but it's all about presentation. Sometimes I wish I was Mr. Morton:


But then again, I'm a man. I already know the pains of rejection. I mean how much worse could it really get. I have learned, while under these stars, that life is nothing if you have no one to share it with. I'm far from desperate or in need of a woman to complete me. But sometimes, I wish I had someone waiting for me when I got back to my dorm or someone I could chill with in a romantic setting. Friends can only do so much. I am nowhere near lonely ,but a female companion would be real nice. That is all I ask for.