On Black Excellence
“But in the same way my blackness became a source of motivation, it also became a responsibility, a subtle, ever-present burden that constantly reminds me that I cannot allow myself to be common; I can’t be complacent or mediocre — there were things I needed to accomplish in my life. And I accepted that responsibility with open arms.”
By the age of 4, I was hyper aware of the fact that I was black. This awareness was a result of the many times my skin color, shade and tone were referenced by family, friends, and the shows I watched. At that age of 4, I knew I was black and I also knew there were people that existed in this world who would hate me, think less of me and wish me harm simply because of that fact and nothing else. Because of this, by the age of 5, I knew that no matter what, I needed to be proud of the fact that I was black. It would be many more years before I was able to articulate why I was proud of being black. As I grew older, my blackness developed new meanings and levels of significance for me.
The significance of my blackness to me has always shifted due to the fact that it was the world that made the color of my skin significant. I was told by the news that people who looked like me were dangerous. I was told in school that people with skin like mine weren’t as smart. I was told at home that my melanin made me a king. I told myself that it didn’t matter what anyone else said, I was going to love myself and my skin. Because of this, my blackness became a core part of my pride.
The thing about being black is that you are always black first, never second or third. Even if you’re a doctor, engineer, lawyer or whatever, you become the black doctor, the black engineer, or the black lawyer. It became the first signifier of who you are to anyone you come across. And so by its nature, being black automatically plays a big role in any black person’s life. For me, it became a source of motivation that pushed me to excel and prove the world wrong. But in the same way my blackness became a source of motivation, it also became a responsibility, a subtle, ever-present burden that constantly reminds me that I cannot allow myself to be common; I can’t be complacent or mediocre — there were things I needed to accomplish in my life. And I accepted that responsibility with open arms.
I now spend the majority of my adult life trying to be a model to the younger generation of melanated young people what black excellence can be. I think it’s important that younger people of color have someone in their life who they can look at and think, “Ooo, I want to be like that”, and I take tremendous pride in being that person to a small percentage of the students that I come across every year. Because the world tells us that being black makes us less than, I try to emphasize the greatness of our heritage and the power our people have.
Being black has always been important to me, but why it is important has continued to evolve. Even though I was taught from a variety of sources what being black means, it took me some time to define what my blackness truly meant for myself. I know that my skin color does not determine my intelligence, strengths, weaknesses or anything like that - but others believe that. And as much as I’d love to ignore those opinions, I can’t help but feel responsible for other black people and working hard to disprove any negative thoughts or opinions the haters may have. I consider my black skin to be a blessing. I’ve never wanted to be anything else. But I also acknowledge the responsibility that I feel when walking around and stepping into those blessings. It’s sometimes difficult to imagine feeling any other way about it.