Blog 9 My Young Adult Years

Life seems to get in the way just when you finally reach the age to have fun on your own. As a kid my parents dictated who I could spend time with and where I was able to go. I remember thinking that finally I could make the decision as to who I wanted to be and what I planned to do with my life. After spending summers in North Carolina, for the past five years, I knew I did not want to be a “nigger.”
I loved hanging out with my aunts, uncles, cousins, and the friends I had while there, but there were too many rules pertaining to people of color. Lets face it even in the sixties white people had little or no respect for black people, especially in the south. As a northerner I had no understanding why blacks had to enter through a back door of a store while white people were allowed to enter through the front. I really don’t know if I just did not want to be black or if I wanted to just be equal. What ever the reason I ended up with an “Afro” and a “Dashiki” shouting “Power to the People!”
Being proud of who I was meant a great deal to me and until I joined the Black Nationalist I did not feel proud of being a “Negro.” I was somebody and I knew it. I was smart and I had dreams of becoming a Defense Attorney. My family had come through a long struggle to gain the title “Negro,” but it was only a name. Blacks did not gain anymore access to success than they had in the past, at least not in my neighborhood.
The biggest problem I had was that I did not see anything to be proud of as a “Black Nationalist” either. They robbed people, sold and used drugs, and brought guns. I did not see anything positive in that. I remember feeling that maybe the white people were right. Maybe we are not equal to them. Maybe we are doomed for life. But some where deep down inside I knew I could make it. Only it seemed like I was the only one who knew it. In my reasoning I came to the conclusion that money was the deciding factor as to whether you were important or not. Wouldn’t you know it, still another problem, my family did not have any money. Life was just one big problem. Everywhere I turned I ran into one more disappointment. Somehow being a young adult just did not seem to be all that it was cracked up to be. I felt more trapped as a young adult than I did as a kid.