Ignorance

The N word was peppered throughout their conversation. In between recapping what their boys were up to, they commented on their bitches. "Yo, my cousin has an older bitch. She's gotta job, money, she's all educated and shit." "Man, my bitch be on me about stupid shit. Sometimes, I just can't deal with all that in my ear, she just coming at me with bullshit. I take care of my son. But she always got something to say." Two young black men discussing their lives. I sat across the aisle from them on the train. I made eye contact and looked at them as only a disappointed "sistah" could. What happened? Why were they so comfortable with disrespecting themselves and others out loud? "Yo! My boy was at the strip joint, he had mad bitches all over him. You know he was hanging out with ____ from the Nets. He was making it rain!" They both laughed and nodded in unison - something they could picture and be proud of, I guess. I couldn't help but study them. With their football gear in tow, I assumed they were still in high school. They were oblivious to the fact that everyone around them was in tune to their conversation. Some women rolled their eyes. Some passengers buried their heads in their newspapers. Barely men themselves, how could they be raising kids? What would they teach their sons? At 72nd Street, a couple of women and their two young sons (maybe five years old) got on the train. The little boys were into their Game Boy, they were playing some kind of Sponge Bob game. Their attention was focused on the game. I watched them as they coached each other, and added extra emphasis here and there. When their game was over they diverted their attention back to their moms and the activity on the train. The two young men, were wrapping up their conversation on what they would be doing this weekend and were about to part ways. One guy stood up and gave the other one dap. I think the football gear caught the attention of the two little boys and they looked up at the young man. "Alright my N____. I'll text you later. I'm headed to my bitch's crib." I'm not sure if the little boys heard everything they were saying but I watched them. I thought about how these little boys would be looking up to the young men in front of them. Kids look up to other kids. No, all young men are not like these two young men. I'm sad to see even two young men behaving this way. What happened along the way, to make it cool to be ignorant?

Obama

There was a distinct vibe on November 4th. The air filled with possibility and hope. Something was brewing. Everyone (I knew) was out voting or had voted. I voted absentee for Florida. I felt that it should have been a national holiday. National Voting Day! I watched the moment unfold from the comfort of my living room. Didn't want to miss any of the results. I flipped back-and-forth between CNN and ABC. The campaign trails were woven into a short tale. This is the first time I'd ever been this involved from the beginning: countless newscasts, online stories , debates (both parties), conventions, and the now - the big night. Red states lit up and then blue, more polls closed, electoral votes counted. People gathered. Crowds of supporters in every great state. New York City's Time Square resembled New Years Eve. It happened so quickly...I had gotten up to pour a glass of wine and then I heard Charles Gibson say, "It's official, Barack Obama is our 44th president." I turned the volume up on the TV, I smiled big, I heard him say it again - Barack Obama is our new president. I heard people cheering from the street and car horns blowing. I jumped in place! I cheered! Obama! I smiled bigger. I text my family and friends. I called my mother. It felt surreal. It felt good. It was happy, proud, relieved and historic all rolled into one moment.

FOOTBALL

Athleticism. Clad in shoulder padding, helmets, nylon, spandex, and breathable polyester mesh. The survival of the fittest, the strongest and the fastest. Egos bruised, broken bones and concussions. Rivalry, bragging rights and home-field advantage. It's mildly-mannered, rough and in the south, some call it a religion. Protracted angst, adrenaline rush, and holding your breath with 20 seconds on the clock - anything is possible. Hail Mary! The fans go wild in unison, the cheers get louder, the ritualistic chanting drowns out even the play on the field. Hard-hitting, double coverage, third and long, move the chains! Stadiums built to hold the masses, to tailgate, to root for your team. Team colors displayed proudly, faces painted, and banners stating the facts. It's stats, polls, bowl games and being in the top ten. In your face, noise, and fans spilling on to the field after a one-point win. It's September through January, prime time and cable. Victory! Defeat! Football is sport, amplified.