Jubilee
If you know me personally or even just follow me on Twitter, you’re well aware that on May 14, 2021, I was absolutely unbearable. J. Cole dropped his heavily anticipated project, The Off Season. He’s been a major player in the soundtrack of my life for over a decade so it wasn’t a shocker that I enjoyed the project. But I didn’t just enjoy it, I got so inspired.
The Off Season told a story of being a veteran in his field and clearly the best of our generation (alongside Kendrick Lamar). Every Mount Everest had been climbed and every critic silenced. He had nothing to prove and knew it. Even so, in a moment where complacency is expected and even encouraged, he literally decided to step outside of the box and be hungrier than ever before at age 36, just because he can and he knows he has more to give.
At the ripe age of 23, don’t laugh at me but I feel almost exactly the same way (aside from the being a millionaire part lol). Before my 23rd birthday, I was the first in my family to attend and graduate college, gave a TEDx talk, became a Forbes Under 30 Scholar, created and finished a podcast, switched career paths, studied abroad, led protests, spoke on Capitol Hill, successfully mentored several amazing human beings, and so much more in the midst of battling financial, housing, & social insecurity, generational curses, imposter syndrome, and often debilitating depression and anxiety. I far exceeded all the expectations set for my life and I’ll be completely honest, my only goal was just go to college. That’s it. All the other stuff I was able to do was simply icing on cake.
I blamed much of my anxiety over the past 15 months on the pandemic but to be completely honest, it was hard to plan for what was next (especially graduating in the middle of a panorama) because I honestly didn’t expect to make it this far. When you’ve lived a life like mine, you can’t really take time to dwell on the past or too far into the future because that means slowing down and slowing down means processing and processing means breaking down and breaking down means reconstruction. Pre-therapy me was not trying to hear all that.
That internal dilemma paired with the release of The Off Season reminded me of one of the main reasons I’ve always loved Cole: his relatability. His story resembles mine in the context of growing up in the hood and being in proximity to crime and drugs but considered the one who “made it out”. He always has a knack for being able to articulate how even if you personally aren’t the one gangbanging or selling drugs, growing up in that environment still affects you. Seeing your classmates and friends from your city in caskets or jail cells before they can legally drink takes a toll. Most of all, I admire his ability to paint pictures of our communities with humanity. Where the media may see statistics, he sees people and so do I.
My college career at the University of South Carolina was nothing less than a fairytale. I was the scrappy first gen Black girl who fought her way to having a seat at the table in a lot of rooms. It’s a fantastic success story but it’s also one that I have internal conflict about. I am proud of everything I’ve accomplished but I’m not comfortable being a shining exception. As a Black woman, being the first to do something is absolutely worthless if you’re also the last and/or the only. Stories like mine should be commonplace. Every first gen Black girl from the hood should feel like any college is attainable and accessible, especially the flagship institution of the state. The actual work I did at the tables I sat at can be commended (if you believe it’s commend worthy lol) but the act of being at the table itself should not be considered revolutionary. As a society, we should be used to seeing Black faces and hearing Black voices in every room, showing up authentically and proudly, but sadly we’re not.
My inspiration for Black Bridges came from that frustration. Although I’ve been known to speak my mind, I’ve at times diluted myself out of fear and doubt. To be quite frank, imposter syndrome beat my ass. A VERY hard hurdle to tackle. However, crazily enough, my uncertainty provided me with the clarity to determine what I want in my next chapter.
It’s actually quite simple. My sole goal is to make an impact where I am by being my complete self and pulling up others along with me. I’m still working out the “how” but I’m cemented in my “why”.
The Keenan parts (if you know, you know). The artsy parts. The scholarly parts. The strong parts. The vulnerable parts. The evolved parts. The parts in-progress. The parts that care for others. The parts that need to be taken care of. I’m bringing all of me into this chapter and I’m challenging every Black voice I come in contact with to do the same. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a space where I had the confidence to be all of these things at once, so I decided to create one.
Black Bridges is a culture house devoted to the beauty in all forms of Blackness, from the hood to the Hill. There is pain in our communities that isn’t being discussed. There are industries that need to hear our perspectives. There is Black joy and love and talent and thought and beauty that needs to be shared.
On this day, Juneteenth 2021, we celebrate Black freedom and liberation and on this day, I am liberating myself from my fears and insecurities. I’m daring myself to show up in the world in all of my fullness and Blackness and guess what? I’m daring you too.
I, alongside my fellow creatives, am no longer interested in requesting seats. We building tables out here. Join us. Happy Jubilee ✊🏾
What good is the bread if my ni**as is broke?
What good is first class if my ni**as can’t sit?
That’s my next mission, that’s why I can’t quit
Just like LeBron, get my ni**as more chips-J. Cole, Middle Child
