March 1, 2009
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3.1/2009
I find it interesting how influenced people are by their environment. By environment I'm referring to everything and everyone that surrounds them: Their family structure, their friend's belief's and behaviors and their general environment shape their being. When looking at myself I see little pieces of many different people. I'm a walking amalgam of my parents, my siblings, my friends, my teachers, and random strangers. It's strange, although a lot of things I adopted were not conscious efforts, some were. I don't talk to Andrew as much as I used to, part of which is due to my own negligence, but I consciously adopted his style of dressing... of wearing more formal clothes in casual situations. (Wearing more collared, button-down shirts and ties.) I guess it's my way of remembering who he was and showing my respect.
Environment also plays a major role. I remember people thinking I was crazy for leaving the apartment at Duke unlocked ninety-percent of the time. It would not seem so strange if people knew my background. The house I was raised in is located in St. Louis County. I have never had to worry about robberies, muggings or any real crimes. (...At least I wasn't aware of any.) Things were pretty calm where I lived. I could walk around at night without the slightest thought of danger. This was true of my friends' places as well. I could sit on their porches late at night with only one fear... being bitten by mosquitoes. I had lived a very environmentally sheltered life before Duke, and, in some sense, I still do. Although I understand the world to not be as nice as I once did before entering college, I don't think it is as dangerous as many do.
Environment also plays a role in reference to how people are perceived. At Morehouse and Morehouse School of Medicine, there are dozens of people who stereotype whites the same way that some whites will stereotype blacks. Some people claim that all whites are racist, even though it might not be readily apparent. Having been around whites nearly all my life, I beg to differ. White people, just like black people and all others, come in a variety of forms. I've met my fair share of overt racists, subtle racists, closet racists, and people who didn't even understand how racist they truly were... but I have also met a large proportion of good, honest people. I have found that racism is less of an inherent quality in people, but more like something that is passed down from generation to generation.
Conversely, I grew up detesting black people. Not because of negative white perceptions of Blackness, not because I hated myself per se, but because of the narrow scope of "Blackness" that African American children and adolescents held. I was always labeled "White" by Blacks for not being interested in the mainstream activities, by not talking "Black," and not acting "Black." It wasn't until college that I began to sway from this belief, because I met some people who were more open to different interpretations of "Blackness."
Who would I be without all of this?
Saw Slumdog Millionaire yesterday. It seriously was an amazing movie that deserved the accolades it got. I expected the movie to be good, but that was something different all together. It took me places darker than I anticipated, and made me face harsh realities that I didn't expect to see. All I knew about the movie was that it was about some Indian kid from the street (a "slumdog") who was going on the Indian version of "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire," and that he was being questioned about possibly cheating... and somehow all of this would relate back to his love interest. But... wow... what I saw was truly something.
Slumdog Millionaire, in my opinion, met the hype.
Went to a post-baccalaureate program interview on Friday at SIU and had one of the weirdest experiences driving down there. Dad and I drove down to Carbondale, Illinois on Thursday night, through one of the largest downpours I've ever seen. We used the GPS to navigate, but often times could barely see more than ten feet in front of the car due to the rain and the sheer darkness. Near the end of the drive, we the GPS stated that we reached our location. We looked around. We saw nothing. No hotel, no school, just houses. Thinking we drove for miles in a different direction, we frantically began to search for the address of SIU to make sure we were in the right area.
While searching on my blackberry, I heard a knocking sound. "Did you hear that?" I asked Dad. "Hear what?" He responded. "I could've sworn I heard a knock." Right then I turn to my left and see a white face staring at me in the rainy darkness outside our window. "We're going to die." I thought.
Lowering our window, the guy spoke up. "Are you guys okay?" He said. "We're looking for SIU and the Holiday Inn hotel" I said. "Oh it's right down this road. Just turn around, take a left and it will be on your right." We thanked the guy, drove off in that direction and found the hotel exactly where he said it would be.
Weird.
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