A Brotha from another Motha
Has someone ever said something to you, and it literally brought you to tears? If so, it’s probably been for very few times. Well, May 9th, 2015 was the day I’ve finally had that moment.
As every summer should start, me and my brother are several puffs into a hazy day full of laughs and munchies. Windows are down, and the music is up as we head to Starbucks to fulfill our Frappuccino cravings. The good thing about Ben is that we waste no time talking shit about my grades or who’s the next mayor for town. For those of you who don’t know- Ben is my younger brother and honestly, best friend in my foster family, the Hixsons. The Hixsons are also white, republican, and conservative enough to think Mitt Romney is a valid candidate for President but liberal enough to foster a gay BLACK son.
But as I was saying, our conversation today started off like this: “You know...I think it’s funny how I use to be such a tomboy like six years ago.” I say a few more thoughts and pause with “Wait! Tomboy? I mean country fried southern boy! Tomboy is used for girls.” Ben replies, “Yeah, I knew what you meant. I mean, it’s fine. Just let me know whatever you feel so I can address you in the right way.”
Wow.
I held back the tears until I could get home for some privacy, but that was so touching to hear. Ben and I have had our ups and downs for many occasions. But we have shared some really special moments. For the first 48 hours that I have been back in GA, I have felt somewhat elitist to my home. I hate this feeling, but it is somewhat expected. Having had the hardships that I’ve had in this town, I feel pretty damn good for the opportunities that I've earned in DC. It’s been amazing to be able to learn and grow from them. Newnan is definitely stuck in the 60’s, but it’s still the small town that raised me. I won’t lie, I came back for a few weeks this summer with hesitation that no one will understand or care about what it means to be a black man. Even more so, they wouldn’t understand or care about what it means to be a black man in America in 2015. My biggest fear of who would think like this-- the Hixsons. But damn, have I been proved wrong?
To love for the person and not for a purpose can be the hardest thing. Naturally, we relate and become attracted to those who are similar to us. People who look like us, being in the same social class, traveling in the same friend groups, or sharing the same hobbies all draw us nearer because we’re comfortable. But being comfortable doesn’t lend you any growth or expansion. For Ben and many others, I applaude you for going against the grain of the small town of Newnan or pressuring “friend groups.” It makes you THINK, does what it takes to be bold not only entail to think differently, but to also act differently?