I am nothing more than an outcome of my own upbringing. What you see in front of you is the struggle of a man that grew up from the south side. Because of you, I was molded to understand hardship and pain and received the scraps that were given to me as the best that I will ever have. Nothing more. Embrace this environment and never contest it. Is this the circumstances of my past that I have chosen to accept or is this the present condition that I have elected to challenge? The consequences of thinking outside of this small box that you have given me may be swift and severe, but perhaps, just maybe, it was well worth the continuous let downs and constant struggles. I dared myself to crossover onto the other side of the tracks and countless times, I was pushed back to where I was told I belonged. You beat me but I chose to fight back. You handed me torn and discarded books; so, I decided to relocate to the library. You had me arrested but I stood tall and continued to advance forward. And now, my environment is identical to yours. I no longer reside where it is comfortable for you to see me only from a long distance. Your ecosystem is now mine. I am your neighbor.
This is a poem that I wrote expressing where I was and where I currently am, both physically and mentally. An individual once approached me at this upper-class health facility and asked me what I did for a living. He was direct, apparently fighting for that alpha dominance. He wanted to see where I stood in the caste system. My response was also direct and to the point; “I work”.
If you noticed in the above poem, I mention the word “you”, quite often. I am not referring to an individual person, a specific race or culture. Instead, the word “you” is code for the society that was provided to me and the so call hand that was dealt to me. It is also known as the caste system. Defined in the Merriam-Webster dictionary, caste is ‘any social group distinguished by shared characteristics, such as rank, economic wealth, or profession.’
Subconsciously, we are at times unaware that when we engage in conversations with one another, we are actually sizing each other up. It is an apex of sorts, attempting to see where we fair in this societal caste system. This is a primitive engagement that has been instilled in our DNA as early as the Homo-Erectus; almost two million years ago. To survive then, a group, a system had to be created. And now, the rules are the same, with added caveats along the way. This happens not only outside of our culture but amongst the same race, gender, religion and so on.
Perception 101: It was huge! I could not believe the size of this house. I have never seen a two-story house and it looked amazing. I was six and in my little mind, I saw something that was truly amazing. I was five when my mom and dad divorced. My mom, my older sister and I ended up moving to the south side of the tracks of Midland, Texas. I don’t remember much as a child, but I do remember moving around from home to home. We even stayed with our big mama for a while. At the time, in the early 80’s, the majority of the minority community lived on the south side. This was home for me and at the time, I felt safe; comfortable because I was with family. Before my mom remarried and my connection with my stepdad, (whom I called dad) was forged, the south side was my place. In my eyes, life was good. It was peaceful connecting with new friends, my neighbors. As a kid, a naïve little boy, this was what I called living.
Now, allow me to revisit this time in my past, but as an adult, a man that now knows better and has more knowledge. As a child, my family and I lived in a community that was marked RED on the map. Redlining… It originates from actual red lines on maps that identified predominantly black neighborhoods as “hazardous”. That’s right, a large portion of south side Midland, in the city where the majority of people of color resided and called home, was literally marked on a city map as hazardous. Our “little house on the prairie”, (what we used to call our home), was indeed a shack. You may be asking yourself, “But what about that two-story house?”. Yes, about that house, here lies the rub… This family was probably the richest of the poor community that resided in our neighborhood. Multiple families resided there, and the owner created a second story with his own hands. In actuality, this house was nothing more than a two-story shack. Both my parents shack and the two-story dwelling have both been demolished.
My mindset, the way I viewed life, was molded by my mom and the family that surrounded me as my mom was taught by her mother and so-on. Through generations, we are handed knowledge from our parents, grandparents and if we are fortunate, our great grandparents. Education through school can and should prepare all students to advance as adults and sharpen our intellectual minds. But what if the education that was provided wasn’t enough, what if you are only taught to advance as a low-income civilian? How would you know if that is truly enough, if that is all you were ever taught, and the gauge of your accomplishments are based on the environment you are living in? Should we be satisfied with that and never challenge it? Who would dare challenge a teacher of their expertise taught to students? Dare I confront the upbringing of my parents and question if there is more than what they are offering?
Acuity can cloud a person’s mindset when you are comfortable in the only environment you have seen. But what if… What if there is more to explore, more to see on the other side of the tracks? As stated earlier in this article, knowledge is power and without the proper education and the networking that is a must to improve your socio-status. We, as a society, will continue to have the upper class looking down on the unfortunate, low-income group, that are expected to know their place.
As I write this article, I know with the absolute certainty that I never questioned my upbringing and accepted what was handed to me. From an adolescent and then a teenager, my family and I continued to prosper. We no longer lived in a shack and our house seemed sturdy, a solid foundation was formed. My personal curiosity peaked only when we crossed over, the other side of the tracks. Everything appeared new and unrealistic. Call it an upgrade or a 2.0 version of living but I was surprised at life and what was on display.
As a soon-to-be middle-aged man, my blinders have been removed and my voice roars like the apex lion on top of the hill, looking down at his pride. To this day, I can see how society is comfortable in groups, as long as they are not disrupted. “Stay on your side, and I will never question you. Attempt to become my neighbor and there may be resistance”. This figurative quote has been thrown at me as an adult and not only from one group, a specific caste, but inside my own race. “Congratulations”, recognition as an individual continues to advance should be more noticed than “why are you here, are you a professional athlete?”. At the beginning of this article, when I was asked what I did for a living, it was my own race that asked this question, and I was not shocked or upset. This is, unfortunately, typical and allowed because in the past, we were expected not to crossover but remain in one section of the town. As progress continues to move forward for all, individuals within the same race are questioning one another. As if “there can only be one” of us residing in that space.
Instead, how about picking one another up by our much-worn bootstraps and educating all in ways to improve. By that, we can all strive for success and achieve greatness.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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From The Good Men Project on Medium
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