Throwin down

My thought process is forever changing like leaves in autumn, so if I seem to contradict myself, please realize it's only natural. I am only human and as I grow up and meet new people, the observer in me manifest itself as I pick up new ways of approaching and analyzing trivial matters. These thoughts I'm currently recording, stem from a conversation I had with a friend/mentor (i have many mentors). I would provide a lot background about him, but you really don't need to know much besides, when identifying himself he throws out two distinct and defining labels. Christian first. Black male second.
So one day we're discussing a lot of different things in his car. And when I say we're discussing, it means that he's talking and I'm doing nothing more than listening and adlibbing on occasion. My ears are perked wide open. They become like lungs because all I want to do is intake every air of wisdom that this dude has to offer...until we start talking about violence.
This is where I have to provide a little background.
My boy grew up in the Bay Area of California. If Dre and Snoop songs haven't alerted you, crime statistics and homicide rates in the state of California will. The city of angels is unfortunately a city where violence subsides as well. Violence was very much a part of the environment he grew up in and he believes encountering dangerous situations helped him mature into a man.
He stated that adversity and politics that the streets provided helped him overcome the unfair politics that society provide. He also threw out several statements about the most misused (R) word in the black community, respect. As I continued to keep quiet and let his words sink in, inside my body was a great sense of rage.
This last r word and my personality are usually incompatible, except when the issue of violence is brought up. Glorification of violence in music and television affect me more than it does most Americans. I hate (and please be aware of the strength of the word) how as a country we accept problems, and then when something traumatic happens finally look to solve them. From an 11 year old boy getting bullied and then committing suicide, to Columbine, to street shoot-outs killing innocent victims. They are all intertwined, because we carefully wrap dark images around the psyche of our young one's. We embrace this animalistic ideal of what toughness is, and for some reason submit ourselves into a thinking that is anything but progressive.
I must acknowledge that I grew up in a neighborhood that wouldnt recognize violence unless it slapped it in the face. My parents taught me to earn the respect of only elders through school and good deeds. I don't think they ever once mentioned trying to attain it from my peers or the streets. But at the same time, as a black male, I was not completely disconnected from the fruition of a deadly black stereotype. Growing up, I had friends who gang banged, but internally I knew they weren't gang bangers. I've seen street fights one day, turn into a bunch of people packing knives the next. I know people who have been stabbed, people who have been shot at. There not that different from me. It's just that their path to maturity and success got derailed. That aggression that could have been channeled in a much more positive way, somehow escaped their body and manifested itself in a dark one.
I was always the one who as my peers rushed to the playground when a fight broke out, stayed back and wondered why do we love to see each other get battered and bruised. I always tried to avoid the temptation of hitting someone because I was scared of the consequences. Not merely in terms of the fight that day, but both the mental and psychological battles that ensues eafter. Explanations to my family of why I let my emotions get the best of me, coupled with the awkwardness of seeing the people I beefed with every day, and most of all, looking in the mirror and knowing that I allowed someone's words to break me, not physically but mentally.
So back to the two dudes in the car. By this time he's explaining how he wants his kids to get into fights and be challenged. And I just let it out. " Fighting is repulsive!"
I didn't care if I sounded bourgeoise or soft. I didn't care if I was disrespecting a culture, or if he was going to get Latin Kings to come to Amherst. Well that would be kind of scary. This was personal. For years I've described myself as a black male, so he may have thought, I accepted violence as second nature. But being black and a male is the very reason why I hate violence altogether.When you see friends adopting a lifestyle in which violence becomes their second language, words can't express how frustrating it is.
It may have been bad diction to use the word repulsive. I probably really should have used a term like pointless or stupid, but this dude is pretty smart so I was trying to show off my vocab and relay a strong message with a word poignant and potent.
Anyways this is how I felt a couple days ago.
I kind of feel wrong today. Its hard to judge. Respect is important, and maybe fighting helps some people. It could be key to developing character and manhood. However, it's not like we look back at history and say " Ghandi and Martin Luther King jr. were soft dudes."'
After all they went hard for the greater good of their people. And so will I some day.
jdote