Florida A&M University’s campus magazine
Blacks’ mistrust in the medical field is hurting their survival.
Afro-Latino Examining race relations between Blacks and Hispanics.
Forbidden
the
Badblood
Journey
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VanitySlave Attack of materialism in the black community.
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’ve heard people say that as an editor if you don’t feel like quitting at least once it means you aren’t doing something right. Well, what does it mean when you feel like quitting everyday? Or is that too taboo to admit?
I remember my freshman year in high school, every single day after track practice I swore I was going to quit…four years later I was still on the track team and was a contender for the triple jump state title. I guess I was doing something right back then. Only time will tell if I’m doing something right with Journey. Right now I feel like I’m flailing in a sea of darkness. I’ve come to realize that I’m most likely going to feel like I’m drowning (figuratively of course) until our last issue is published. That’s not something most editors are willing to admit, but I’m not afraid to share my most inner thoughts (The Forbidden Journey p. 10) no matter how shockingly unconventional they may be (King Bee p. 24). With that being said I hope this issue inspires some to take risks (Young, Wild & Adventurous p. 5), step outside comfort zones (All Abroad p. 8), and possibly experiment with new traditions (The Black Candle p. 6). Let’s all make it our New Year’s resolution to break away from restriction and embrace the many taboos of life.
ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT MIND, BODY, & SOUL FAMU MATTERS LIFE & STYLES
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CONTENTS
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26 Morgan Grain
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF What do you think about this issue? Tell me on Twitter @Maggi_Miranda
Copyright 2012 by Florida A&M University. All rights reserved. The issue of Journey magazine was produced by the student organization Journey with essential support from the School of Journalism & Graphic Communication. Journey is funded through the student activity and service fees, as allocated by the Student Senate of Florida A&M University. For more information on Journey or the Magazine Program, contact the Division of Journalism, 510 Orr Drive Room 3078, Florida A&M University, Tallahassee, FL, 32307 Cover Design By Tony Watts & Chidozie Acey Cover Photo By Alexis Calhoun On the Cover Whitney Cooper
WILD SIDE.
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ADVISER BRANDON VAUGHN PRINTER GANDY PRINTERS CONTRIBUTORS WHITNEY COOPER, MATTHEW GRAY, ASHLEY SMITH, COURTNEY HUTCHINS, TARYYN NARAINE, WANDLY JOSEPH MULTIMEDIA EDITOR JABARI PAYNE ART TEAM ADAM HARDY, WESTIN GILES, TONY WATTS SPECIAL THANKS DOROTHY BLAND, ROBERT RICHARDSON, WHITE HOUSE BLACK MARKET, DILLARDS, REEVES WELDING PHOTO TEAM LAGRETTA JOHNSON, ALVIN MCBEAN STYLE TEAM MARKEL MAZELIN, ROBYN MOWATT PR TEAM IAN MCRAE, RENEE MOWATT
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There are seven basic values of African culture, also known in Swahili as the Nguzo Saba. These values are the building blocks to reinforcing family, community and culture among the African-American community. Each principle represents each day celebrated during Kwanzaa.
THE
umoja kujichagulia ujima ujamaa nia kuumba imani unity
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self-determination
collective work and responsibility cooperative Economics
WORDS BY KAMARIA KAFELE
DESIGN BY CHIDOZIE ACEY
PHOTOS BY ALEXIS CALHOUN
purpose
creativity
faith
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rowing up I always knew that I was raised differently than all my friends. My family wasn’t the “traditional” black family. My name didn’t sound like the other kids’ in my class and to this day teachers still can’t properly pronounce it. My father made sure our home was the perfect representation of Africa. From the Egyptian murals of pharaohs painted in our hallway to the many African artifacts adorning our walls, I must admit it is a beautiful representation of the motherland. However, our home is not my family’s only acknowledgement of our African ancestry. During the holidays there are no Santa Clauses or Jack Frosts. We trade Christmas lights for candles and instead of surrounding the Christmas tree at night my family gathers around the Kinara on our Kwanzaa table. On December 26th of each year we begin celebrating the seven principles of Kwanzaa. My parents always made Kwanzaa exciting for my siblings and me. Although the television isn’t on and there is no music playing, the room is filled with good conversation, laughter and occasionally music from my dad showing out on the African drums. What I appreciate most about Kwanzaa is it’s not all about receiving gifts. The goal of Kwanzaa is to realize that the real gift is your family. As a child I knew I was the only one of my friends who did not celebrate Christmas, but I was never bothered by this fact. It seemed to disturb others more than it did me! Over the years, after informing others that I celebrate Kwanzaa, I’ve encountered several odd reactions from people looking at me like I’m crazy to my religious beliefs being questioned and, worst of all, blank stares from people who have never heard of the holiday. I truly didn’t and still don’t understand 06
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how African-Americans aren’t informed about a holiday that was created specifically for them. So let me enlighten you.
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y favorite thing about the Kwanzaa table has always been our Kinara, which is the candleholder filled with red, black, and green candles. The colors of Kwanzaa are black, red and green: black for the people, red for their struggle, and green for the future and hope that comes from their struggle. In the Kinara there is one black candle, three red and three green candles. These seven candles are called the Mishumaa Saba and they represent the seven principles. The black candle represents the first principle Umoja and is placed in the center of the Kinara. The red candles represent the principles of Kujichagulia, Ujamaa and Kuumba and are placed to the left of the black candle. The green candles represent the principles of Ujima, Nia and Imani and are placed to the right of the black candle. The black candle is lit on the first day of the celebration.
picture of Dr. maulana karenga
Each remaining candle is lit on the day it represents from left to right. By the seventh day, all of the candles will be lit and it is a profound sight to see. This procedure indicates that the people come first then the struggle and then the hope that comes from the struggle.
(Source of Picture > www.history.com/photos/kwanzaa/photo2)
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n 1966, professor, author, and scholar-activist Dr. Maulana Karenga created Kwanzaa. It is an African-American and Pan-African holiday, which celebrates family, community and culture. Celebrated from December 26th to January 1st, its origins are in the first harvest celebrations of Africa from which it takes its name. The name Kwanzaa comes from the phrase Matunda Ya Kwanza which means first fruits in Swahili. Kwanzaa was created to reaffirm and restore the black community’s rootedness in African culture. It was designed to strengthen community and reaffirm common identity, purpose and direction as a people a part of the African diaspora.
This is symbolic of our roots, the tribulations of our ancestors and the future of our children.
(Above) Members from spoken word organization Voices recite a poem explaining the principles of Kwanzaa at Journey’s “Learn About Kwanzaa” event. (Below) Editor-in-Chief, Morgan Grain, lights a candle on Journey’s homemade kinara.
Habari Gani- Swahili greeting for Kwanzaa. It means, “What’s the word?” Each day the greeting is called out and afterwards the principle of the day is spoken in response. In the Kinara there is one black candle, three red and three green candles. These seven candles are called the Mishumaa Saba and they represent the seven principles. JOURNEY
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Kezia Gilyard Graduated with Political Science Degree Tampa, Fla.
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All Kezia in front of a waterfall in the city of Belo Horizonte, Brazil.
Who says Black people don’t travel?
Tell that myth to these college students and they will probably beg to differ. Words By Renee Mowatt
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o you’ve become interested in a particular language or country and you long to experience somewhere outside of your comfort zone. You also realize how beneficial receiving an international education would be for your future and decide that it is about time you spread your wings and venture outside of the U.S. and study abroad. But what’s next? With a mere 4.2 percent of African-American students studying abroad, Florida A&M University’s Office of International Education and Development wants to encourage students to raise the statistic. Karen Mitchell, the coordinator for Florida A&M University’s education abroad program explains that a trip to the OIED in Perry Paige should be the first step on a student’s path to international education. “It takes about six months to a year of advanced planning for the average student to study abroad,” says Mitchell. The Office of International Education and Development is decorated with photos of students who have traveled to countries like China, Brazil, Ghana, France and the Dominican Republic. Once students finally decide on where they want to study the next hurdle to overcome is covering expenses. With your already limited dinner
Design By Westin Giles
options of ramen noodles or Campbell’s soup, the study abroad price tag gets you discouraged. Have no fear! Joseph V. Jones, another coordinator in OIED, says there are several scholarships and grants available to African-American students. “If a student is really interested in studying abroad there are many ways that they can do it at little to no cost to them,” says Jones. “We have 2 grants that are sending 18 students to Brazil next year. We will pay $5,000. Students will also be able to use financial aid including Pell grants, loans and scholarships. There are a host of scholarships out there that we are trying to get FAMU students to become aware of. Our students have been very successful in getting them. Full bright, Freeman Asia, Gilman and National Security Education are just a few off the top of my head.” Besides being able to indulge in a foreign culture, students benefit professionally from studying abroad as well. “We live in a global economy now,” says Jones. “Students who have studied abroad have an edge over other students who have not left the United States. Not only does it enhance your resume but it opens you up to life from a different prospective,” says Jones. Adam at Stonehenge
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tudying abroad during the summer of 2011 was undoubtedly a life changing experience. Along with five other FAMU students and 21 FIU students I traveled to and studied in Brazil. To help cover expenses, I received a scholarship from the Center for Global Security and International Affairs. From the beginning of the trip there was a lot of cultural tension with FIU being a predominantly Hispanic/ Latino university and FAMU being predominantly Black. Stereotypes and misunderstandings between students from both schools were abundant, and sincere cultural dialogue and conversations were few. Appropriately, I was most interested in learning about race relations in Brazil. They were not deplorable, but they were also not ideal. Brazil was the last country in the world to emancipate the slaves, and the only country in the world to do so without a violent rebellion. This fact may be misleading. Although virtually all of Brazil’s inhabitants are of African descent, those who are phenotypically African are still among the country’s poorest citizens. The blonde-haired blue-eyed Brazilians are the richest. Those that looked like me were sweeping the streets…or begging on them. If economic culture shock exists, I experienced it. I was standing in a mall when a man came to me begging to buy my American money because their currency is so worthless. I remember my economics professor said that Brazil would benefit economically from America raising the debt ceiling because they could buy more of our debt and prosper.
Inita Knox 4th Year Criminal Justice Student West Palm Beach, Fla.
he world was my classroom, as I participated in the Semester at Sea study abroad program. I had the opportunity to immerse myself in eleven different cultures and customs of countries including Dominica, Brazil, Ghana, South Africa, Mauritius, India, Singapore, Vietnam, Hong Kong, China and Japan. I circumnavigated the world 28,600 miles aboard the MV Explorer. From my experience I have become a global citizen, and my voyage signified my cultural and intellectual rebirth. I sat in natural hot springs in Dominica, visited the slave castles and dungeons in Ghana, walked on floors of the prison where Nelson Mandela was held, and I listened to my township mother’s stories about life during South Africa’s apartheid. During that one semester I have done and seen more than many people, and I am forever grateful for such an opportunity. I have gained a better understanding for the interconnectedness of the world, and how a smile and visit from someone who lives thousands of miles away can make a difference. Throughout my voyage I was pushed and challenged to become not a tourist but a world traveler. I experienced firsthand what it felt like to have a language barrier and once I returned to the states I vowed to never get upset with someone who can not speak English again. My spring 2012 trip has given me a new pair of eyes to view the world through. It has shown me that so many of the things we take for granted in the states would change someone else’s life overseas.
Inita in front of the Taj Mahal
Adam McNeil 3rd Year History Student Winter Park, Fla.
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iving and studying in London for me has been a once in a lifetime experience. I’m currently studying at Kingston University London, which is a twenty-minute train ride away from central London. Kingston University is vastly different from FAMU. The term cultural melting pot doesn’t even begin to describe how many nationalities are studying at the university. I’ve been influenced by every single experience that has come my way while being here. When people told me that studying abroad and experiencing what the world is like outside of the U.S. was extremely beneficial I believed them, however I did not expect to have as much fun and learn as much as I did. If I had to choose the most gratifying moment during my trip I would definitely say playing American football at the “Uni” (a British nickname for Kingston University London) was something I will never forget. It’s a game that I hold near and dear to my heart and being able to create a legacy by participating in the addition of this new sport to the “Uni” will forever be a lasting memory. JOURNEY
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BSLH ACK EEP
BY
ASHLEY SMITH
I
never understood how people can feel better about themselves by putting others down. Maybe one day when I start talking to Sonya again she’ll explain herself. Since I can remember my mother harassed me about being darker than her and my younger sister. Both of them have caramel complexions. I, on the other hand, inherited my dad’s darker skin. Words can’t express the pain I felt growing up knowing that someone so close, who is supposed to love me unconditionally, would intentionally hurt me. She belittled me with names like Burnt, Blackie, Dark Knight and even Dirty Black. Her nicknames made me resent her the most.
Snooping in someone’s diary is nothing short of taboo, but three Journey writers would rather consider the unthinkable than keep these intimate stories a secret. 10
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Once I entered middle school, I became involved with basketball to escape the torture. Basketball became my life; it was the only thing that I enjoyed. My six foot frame made me perfect for the sport and looks did not matter. I felt accepted. I was never teased. On the contrary people wanted to be me. They wanted my height. They wanted me on their team. Players feared me. Coaches were in awe of me. Being
pretty or light-skinned was the last thing school, I began to entertain thoughts anyone was worried about. As long as I of suicide. could make plays and score baskets, I I was ready to disappear. My skin would was adored. be red and burned from scrubbing with However, my success on the court did bleach. not come home with me. It seemed as Desperate to get away, the summer if she was quick to tear down anything positive that happened to me. I of my junior year I went to stay with my remember an incident in particular when grandmother. It didn’t take long for her we were at the store. As I was trying on to see I was troubled. One night, she make-up, a woman approached us and came into my room and said, “Why said my skin was beautiful. For once I do you have so much hate for such a beautiful heart?” felt validated—if for only a second. I couldn’t answer. I was tired of just “She is just playing you really ain’t cute. You too black,” were the words trying to be something I was not, tired that escaped my mother’s mouth as of not being able to love myself. I cried out all the years of torture and suffering. soon as the woman walked away. We both knew it was time to find help. My breath caught in my throat. She And that is exactly what I did. walked off and said, “Come on, Tar.” It takes time to heal; transformation I hated her. I hated people. I does not come over night. It’s a dayhated myself. Looking in the mirror to-day challenge. Four years later sickened me. When people said I I am still a work in progress. I look in looked pretty or complimented me, it the mirror everyday and accept that I fell on deaf ears. In my eyes, I was have a purpose—to stand out and be ugly. I convinced myself that I was appreciated for who I am on the inside unlovable. My self-esteem became and out. so low, my freshman year in high JOURNEY
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DADDY’S GIRL
BY
CourtneY Hutchinson
I
called his phone repeatedly and asked my mother had she heard from him. This wasn’t like him. He always answered for me. He always called me back. But, this time it was different. I felt it. Moping around the house I felt uneasy. I knew something wasn’t right. I had to be about 12. My mom walked into the room and sat down as I lay on the bed watching TV. She tried to make small talk until she uttered the words I didn’t want to hear. “I just received a phone call that your father went back to prison.” I continued to watch television. She repeated her statement. I heard her, but what else could I do except stare at the screen? I was scared that if I shifted my eyes and looked at her the tears would fall. If I spoke my voice would crack like aged sidewalks, and I was frightened if I sighed she would know that I was let down all over again. So I continued to stare ahead. “I’m here for you. Do you want to talk about it?” my mother asked. “I’m okay,” somehow slipped from my lips as I shook my head no. She knew I was hurt, but she also knew I was stubborn when it came to sharing my feelings. No matter how hard she pressed I remained silent. “I’m here when you’re ready to talk,” she reassured me as she rose to make dinner. After she walked out, I dialed his number again. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t have been. My father was supposed to visit from Virginia that weekend and pick me up. He told me that we were going shopping. And he always kept his word. But as the rings chimed, one after the other, I knew what my mother said was true. My mother was 14 when she gave birth to me and my father was 16. I am his second child and the youngest daughter of five children. I was told I didn’t meet my father until I was four, and for some time he denied me as his child. In 1994, he began his first prison sentence of five years. While he was incarcerated he 12
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reached out to me. The first time we spoke over the phone, I hung up. Yet he continued to call. I didn’t understand why. I repeatedly ignored his phone calls until the man that I had been calling daddy since the age of two sat me on his knees and explained how although my father was in prison he still deserved my respect. “You only have one father, Court,” said my step dad. “If he’s trying to be a part of your life, you have to let him. Give him a chance,” he told me. He reassured me that he would always be my daddy, but encouraged me to make an effort with my biological father. Over the next five years, our relationship gradually matured. I visited him in prison and we kept in touch via phone calls and emails. By the time he was released I was 10 years old and we had developed an unbreakable bond. For my 11th birthday, he threw me the biggest party I ever had, and my life seemed perfect. I had my mom, my step dad and two sisters who loved me dearly, and for the next two years, my father became a constant in my life. However, unfazed by his initial sentence, my father returned to selling drugs. One day my mom received the heart breaking phone call from my cousin. This time he was sentenced to 24 years. At 16 I decided I wasn’t going to visit my father anymore. I felt betrayed and I couldn’t forgive him. We would simply talk when he made the effort to call, which he always did, but I kept my distance. I carried the weight of that heartbreak with me for years. I lacked respect for men and felt that eventually they would all leave. They were weak, and as a woman, I had to be strong. Of course, my step dad was nothing short of great, but he was an exception to the rule. Two years later, with my father in prison and my parents on the verge of getting divorced, I saw going to college as my only escape.
However, my first few years were rough. I lacked respect for everyone around me, even myself. I acted out because back home there were too many problems to count, and Tallahassee offered many outlets to escape them. I was more focused on running away instead of obtaining my degree. By my sophomore year, I was almost flunking out, and no one knew. I lost both my scholarship and financial aid. I was unhappy. In my heart I knew that, but I hid my pain behind a smile. It wasn’t until I turned 20 that I wanted to make a change. I wanted more for myself. Instead of focusing on what went wrong, I decided to focus on a solution that would make it right. On this journey to find myself, I found God. Alone and unsure of what was to come, I began to pray. I prayed every day and started to go to church regularly. Eventually, I found a church home and became a member. During this time, my father and I became extremely close. As I focused on strengthening my relationship with God, he did the same. Growing up, my grandmother made sure church was a constant for us, but I always felt it was something I had to do. This time, it was my choice. On Dec. 31, 2011, determined not to live another unfulfilled year, going against my previous decision, I drove to Coleman, Fla. to visit my father. Tired of hearing “I’m sorry” and broken promises I wanted answers. With butterflies in my stomach, I sat down. It had now been four years since I last saw him. As I stared into a face that mirrored mine, I didn’t hate him. I looked into eyes that held the same hurt I had carried with me for years. I sympathized. To the eye he was a man, but I knew that was simply a shell. Trapped inside of him was a little boy lost. I hugged my father. I pressed all the love I had ever wanted from him into him plus all the love he had ever lacked. In return, I was now able to exhale and move on. This hug was a truce. Away went the hurt, the anger and confusion. The same man, who had taught me how to hate, now taught me how to love. A man whom I doubted taught me to believe. A man, whom I was hell bent on holding a grudge against, now taught me how to forgive. But most importantly, the same man whom I had spent my time trying to lose had been a big part of me finding God. And I found my strength in the Lord. For this, I am grateful.
B
ag lady you gon’ hurt your back Dragging all them bags like that I guess nobody ever told you All you must hold on to Is you, is you, is you. – Erykah Badu
sadness about you. And I’m worried,” she said.
I’m not crazy. I’m just f*cked emotionally. Or at least that is the conclusion I have come to. I never really thought too much about therapy. I never thought I’d be in the process of seeking therapy, but here I am: 20 years old and I’m already in need of mental guidance. I’m not a fan of psycho babble and to be quite honest I didn’t think people like me needed to go to therapy. African-Americans have endured hell in this country so it is understood that we, unlike other races, should have a gene of resilience somewhere floating around. Right?
When my mom says she is worried, red flags don’t pop up in my head. She worries about everything. This time she told me she wanted to correct her wrongs. Still picking up the pieces from a nasty situation with my father and not being completely healed from the untimely death of her older brother, my mother explained that she was still trying to find herself when she had me. Not to mention she was coping with the stress of raising and supporting me as a single parent. She believes that during her quest for stability she might have transferred some of her frustrations and emotional baggage onto me when I was a child.
They say, “Uh-Uh black people don’t go to therapy. That’s white people sh*t!” or “If our people could make it through slavery, we can make it through anything.” Oh yeah we’ve all heard it—or thought it. But it couldn’t be further from the truth.
“It’s not healthy to hold everything bottled inside. All of that festers inside of you for years and it only makes you bitter. It’s what happened to me. You’ve heard Erykah Badu’s song ‘Bag Lady.’ It’s so true Morgan,” she said.
African-American women are less likely to seek out mental health treatment than their white counterparts. Many black women, including myself, have attached a stigma to mental health care and the idea of seeking psychiatric help. Thus, many black women, including myself, live their lives angry, depressed, emotionally unstable, stressed beyond comprehension and downright tired from trying to juggle it all. This trend in our community even has a name. It’s called the Black Superwoman Myth and in 1979 Michele Wallace wrote a book about it titled Black Macho and the Myth of the Superwoman. In it she describes the image of the African-American woman as having “inordinate strength” and not having “the same fears, weaknesses, and insecurities as other women, but believes herself to be and is, in fact, stronger emotionally than most men.”
After our conversation I couldn’t help but hum the words to Badu’s classic single. Girl I know sometimes it’s hard. And we can’t let go. Oh when someone hurts you oh so bad inside. You can’t deny it, you can’t stop crying. Once in my groove, I couldn’t help but think—maybe I do have some emotional issues. Since I was a young girl I always knew I was moody. I’m so in tune with it, I can actually feel when my mood changes. But other personal issues weren’t so easy to identify over the years.
I have a deep-rooted distrust of men. I don’t like to be emotional with my father. I feel like it makes me vulnerable and I refuse to let my guard down around him. Although my mother has made amends with him, I will never forgive my little sister’s father for the way he treated my family. I always thought myself to be a person who doesn’t hold grudges, but he is an exception. I can get very emotionally detached from people at the drop of a dime. I have completely removed old friends and ex-boyfriends from my life seemingly overnight without regret. I don’t feel like I’m as emotionally connected with my siblings as I should be, and I think it has to do with me being so used to being alone. I understand that my road to emotional recovery will be long and I made my first step toward living a healthy emotional lifestyle by visiting Sunshine Manor and speaking to Dr. Bogan. It wasn’t necessarily an official consultation, it was more of an interview. However, the information I received helped me realize that seeking professional care isn’t taboo. It is essential. My mom eventually found peace. Maybe it’s about time I healed myself. If you start breathin’ Then you won’t believe it You’ll feel so much better (So much better baby) Bag lady Let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go
Are we really stronger emotionally? Or is that just an excuse black women have created to justify our need to constantly appear to have it all together, while in reality, we are bursting at the seams with emotions tied to events in our lives that occurred years ago? While I was in New York for the summer my mother called me. I thought it was going to be a usual conversation, but it turned into something more. She kept asking me if I was okay or if I needed to talk. At first I didn’t think anything of her inquiry until she began crying and suggested I see a therapist. “I sense a
BAG
BY
MORGAN GRAIN
LADY JOURNEY
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Students address race relations between Afro-Latinos and African-Americans WORDS & PHOTOS BY GINA CHERELUS DESIGN BY WESTIN GILES
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JOURNEY
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ristian Sanchez Jr., a fourth-year sociology student, can easily appear to be the average black college student. But the dark caramel hue of his skin, the softly coiled texture of his hair and his exotic last name hold something more than what is seen on the surface. “I always knew I was Hispanic, that’s by blood,” says Sanchez. “But I more comfortably fall into the AfricanAmerican lifestyle or culture. The things that I do, the music that I listen to and the TV programs I watch reflect that.” Being born and raised in Liberty City, an inner-city neighborhood in Miami, Sanchez grew up in a Spanish and English speaking household. With parents who were born in the Dominican Republic, he did not start defining himself as a black person until the start of his adolescence when his family moved to Opa-Locka, Fla. “It’s funny, people say I don’t identify with being Dominican, and it’s not that I don’t. It’s just that the culture that I grew up around was an African-American one,” says Sanchez. He describes it as an exchange of lifestyles, as he learned things from his friends and they learned from him. “I think we are all a part of the African culture because we all have African roots so it’s good to see different cultures collide together and merge like that.” And it was not long after this exchange that Cristian identified himself as an Afro-Latino. Afro-Latinos are descendants of African slaves, American Indians and Spanish Europeans spread across the African diaspora, mainly in South America, Central America and the Caribbean. Often times in the teachings of the triangular slave trade, the history of Africans brought to Latin America by Europeans in the 15th and 16th centuries are excluded. Over 7 million Africans were shipped to Latin America, with 5 million of that total sent to Brazil alone. Today, there are over 150 million Afro-descendants, mulattoes and mestizos living in Latin countries. In the U.S. there are almost 50 million Latino citizens and it is estimated that 1.7 million of these Latino citizens are Afro-Latinos. Dr. William Guzmán, a visiting assistant professor in the Department of History and African-American 16
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Studies at FAMU, explained how it is easy for society to be harsh on Afro-Latinos for not affirming themselves to be Black since immigrating here in the late 1800s and early 1900s. “That’s not to say it [race] wasn’t important in their countries; it was. But they were not easily or consciously identified as such [Afro-Latino],” says Guzman. “In coming to America, most Latin immigrants were faced with a language barrier, cultural barrier and the notion of race, especially in the African-American communities.” Dominique Smith, a 20-year-old Agronomy student of Nicaraguan descent, experienced how difficult it can be as an Afro-Latina growing up and attending school with other inner city kids. “Every time I tell black people where I am from, they demand that I speak Spanish or prove my Latin side and when I can’t or choose not to, they assume I am lying,” says the Fort Lauderdale native. Smith explains that she defines her background based on who she is talking to. “It’s easier to describe to a Spanish person where I am from because they know that our countries have black people in it. Versus explaining to an African-American that I am a dark-skinned Hispanic person, they are often confused,” says Smith. African-Americans are not the only race of people confused by the cultural mix of Black and Hispanic. Sanchez remembers dealing with criticism from other Latinos and having to defend his actions and association with black people. “I remember when I was in the 11th or 12th grade and I was a part of the baseball team,” explains Cristian. “I had ‘twists’ in my hair like I was going to ‘loc’ up’ and I was in the hallway taking them out. Then a teammate said, ‘I’m glad you takin’ them out, those are for black people.’” His teammate was Dominican as well and Cristian couldn’t understand how Latinos could
listen to music that Blacks created and participate in black culture but think that wearing his hair like Blacks was a problem. “I don’t really get discriminated by my black friends or other Blacks because I live that lifestyle, and I am respected because of that,” says Sanchez. “Some of my other Spanish friends, however, used to question why am I always acting ‘Black’ or why am I posing, but honestly, this is just what I am used to.” A writer and hip-hop artist, Sanchez is a member of Voices, a spoken word group on FAMU’s campus, Dream Defenders, a coalition of minority youth in Florida dedicated to fighting injustices and he is a part of operation F.A.C.E. (Formally Approaching Crowds Everywhere), helping to develop artists of all kinds. “I have a love for both the arts of music and poetry,” says Sanchez. “It’s a dream of mine to help educate the world that way.” Although Sanchez identifies with black culture, he still feels it is important for him to connect with his Dominican heritage. “No matter how we put it, we all originated from that place [Africa]. So it’s all love,” says Sanchez.
Zoe Saldana – Actress (Dominican & Puerto Rican)
Maxwell – Singer (Puerto Rican & Haitian)
Rosario Dawson – Actress (Afro-Cuban & Puerto Rican)
Jean-Michel Basquiat – Artist (Puerto Rican & Haitian)
Arturo Alfonso Schomburg – Historian, Writer, and Activist (Puerto Rican)
Sylvia Del Villard – Actress, Dancer, Activist (Puerto Rican)
Tatyana Ali – Actress (Panamanian)
Laz Alonso - Actor (Afro-Cuban)
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guinea pigs for the general population’s benefit. The most famous example of this betrayal was known as the Tuskegee syphilis experiment, a clinical study between 1932 and 1972 in Macon County, Ala. that purposely infected 600 illiterate, rural black men with syphilis. They thought they were getting free healthcare. According to the Centers for Disease Control, the men were told they were being treated for “bad blood,” a local term for various illnesses that include syphilis, anemia, and fatigue.
according to the American Red Cross African-Americans currently donate less than one percent of the country’s blood supply. Since the only cure—a bone marrow transplant—can be exceptionally difficult to see through, sickle cell patients often rely on frequent blood transfusions, sometimes as often as every few weeks. If these transfusions come from donors of the same ethnic background, there is less chance of complications after the patient receives blood. Carole Doss is the director of communications for the Southeast Blood Donation Center. She says the organization rarely gets participation from African-American donors.
t was the summer of 1996 and a five-year-old girl sat impatiently between her mother and father in a pediatrician’s waiting room. They put it off as long as they could, but she needed her standard immunizations before she returned to school. It didn’t go well. About half a dozen doctors fought to hold her down as they fired a standard round of shots into her pudgy little arms and legs. That little girl was me.
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“Traditionally speaking, African-Americans don’t donate like other ethnic groups…and it’s really hurting them,” says Doss. “There are certain diseases like sickle cell that are typically better treated with blood transfusions from people of the same ethnic group and while high rates of sickle cell anemia, lupus and diabetes prevail in the black community.” In my case, it’s the most common reason for avoiding the practice—a fear of needles.
I couldn’t watch the needles go in then and have avoided them since at every turn, wincing as I watched my friends get piercings and tattoos and dreading doctor’s visits.
But for many members of the black community, it’s an issue that pierces a little deeper—a long history of distrust for those promising medical care.
Like many African-Americans, I don’t give blood. Despite the rarity of U-negative and Duffy Negative blood types unique to the black community, our supply is drying up. While high rates of sickle cell anemia and lupus prevail in the black community, often requiring blood transfusions,
Black nurses and doctors were once told their work was inferior and white doctors refused to treat black patients. Government officials even performed Nazi Germanystyle experiments on poor Blacks in the 1930s, using them as
Although the Tuskegee Experiment ended almost 30 years ago, people still recall how the life saving and curative basic treatment of Penicillin was withheld from the men. President Bill Clinton even issued a formal apology in 1997, yet some still have the same suspicions about possible experimentation today. In addition to Blacks’ sordid relationship with the medical community, religious beliefs are also often cited as a contributor to the reluctance to donate organs among AfricanAmericans. Some people believe the notion that they should be buried with all their organs. One study of 60 subjects with 41 controls showed that if there were educational intervention partnered with religious organizations, attitudes towards transplants would change in favor of donation. Some African-Americans share the sentiment that even if they donated organs, they would be less likely to benefit because of poorer survival rates after receiving the organs. Poorer outcomes have been demonstrated in clinical trials, with one-year survival rates for a kidney transplants at 94.1 percent for Caucasians, and only 88.9 percent for AfricanAmericans. In Illinois, the Coalition of Community Blood Centers and the General Assembly’s Black Caucus have launched a campaign called “Make Every Drop Count,” an effort to raise awareness about the need for blood donations among blacks. As for me, I’m not sure my fear of needles will ever subside, but I’m making strides. There’s a blood drive this Saturday and the little girl from the doctor’s office all those years ago will finally pierce through my past.
Did Kristen fall out from her fear of needles or did she overcome her phobia? Find out by visiting our Facebook page journey magazine JOURNEY
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WORDS BY MATTHEW GRAY
SLAVE
DESIGN BY LAMONT HOWARD
PHOTO BY ALVIN MCBEAN
“
O
“WORD AROUND TOWN THAT I’M ALL ABOUT THE B*TCHES. WORD AROUND TOWN THAT I LOVE MY TWENTY SIXES. WORD AROUND TOWN THAT I GOTTA STAY PAID. LORD, PLEASE FORGIVE ME I’M A VANITY SLAVE” –KENDRICK LAMAR
ne Monday morning, Janelle, a young college student, reluctantly gets up for class. Before leaving the house she always checks her appearance in the wall mirror to make sure that everything is right and tight. She’s happy with what she sees: Her pink Hollister shirt matches white Hollister pants, which coordinates perfectly with her pink Griffeys and gold and brown Gucci bag. For a brief moment a series of numbers flood her mind: pink Hollister shirt—$50; white Hollister pants—$60;
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pink Griffeys—$140; Gucci bag—$1000. She isn’t fazed by the expensive price tags because in her mind no other girl on campus looks as good as she does. Satisfied with her appearance, she leaves the house and hops into her car. She throws her binder in the passenger seat and papers fly everywhere unleashing a different flood of numbers: Spanish test–50 percent; Calculus test–69 percent; Philosophy test–40 percent. As she drives off, she cannot help thinking, “I’m a bad B****.”
“
THEY KILLING NI**AS FOR J’S THAT’S DEATH OVER DESIGNER. - J.COLE
“
VANITY
Darren is 22 years old. He has been a car mechanic since he graduated high school and has never considered attending college. To him there is no reason; he is making good money now or at least more than anyone else his age. Every time someone asks him if he is going to college he immediately replies, “What for, the only reason people go to college is to get a good job. I am good, my job is good, and I am out here getting money. What more is there?” One Friday afternoon Darren is enjoying his day off, and plans a day out on the town with his girlfriend. As he walks outside he stops in front of his brand new chromed out black 2012 Chevy Camaro to check his reflection in the paint. His black Polo beanie couldn’t look any better with his matching black Polo crewneck that is accentuated by the red rosary beads hanging delicately on his neck. Before approving his appearance he straightens out his camouflage cargo shorts and brushes off his fresh black and white Jordan Concords. He hops in his whip and rides out blasting Trinidad James’ “All Gold Everything.” The fictional Janelle and Darren are not symbols for the entire African-American community, but they do represent a problem that is affecting the black community drastically: materialism. HipHop music has always been, in a way, a reflection of the characteristics identifiable to the black community. In the late 80’s and early 90’s, hip-hop birthed a few Ni**as Wit Attitudes coming “Straight Outta Compton” and a Public Enemy who were without question, “Rebels Without a Pause.” These groups and their music were the embodiment of the real life struggles that many young African-Americans were experiencing during that time. Ice Cube and Eazy-E screamed “F*ck the Police” only after living in an environment where those who were supposed to serve and protect were causing more deaths than saving lives. In that respect nothing has changed in hip-hop music. We live in an age where new-school rappers like J. Cole are spitting verses about how, “They killing ni**as for J’s/that’s death over designer.” Who can forget the chaos that erupted when the newly released Jordan 11 Concords hit stores and police officers around the nation answered calls reporting riots, shootings and alleged killings? Other new-school rappers have also lamented on the materialism that has gripped the black community. Big K.R.I.T. (King Remembered in Time) states in his song “King Part 2,” “A sense of self-respect lost in the need to express ourselves through money,
drugs, and sex. I am a product of the same, so I understand the text.” Florida A&M University’s music department chair Dr. Kawachi Clemons discusses the problem of materialism in rap music in his 2008 dissertation titled, Hip Hop as a Cultural Genre of the African American Musical Tradition: A Critical Race Theory Analysis of Hip Hop’s Pioneers’ Experiences. In his dissertation Dr. Clemons discusses the mainstream media’s involvement with hip-hop. “Historically the dominant class in American society has sought to control people of color by way of positing ideologies of genetic inferiority and cultural deficiency,” writes Clemons. “Living in a capitalist society, money and power are inextricably intertwined.” Kreston Shirley, a 22-year-old graduating computer information systems student from Washington, D.C., believes that this sense of materialism in the black community was catalyzed by a money obsessed entertainment industry that impregnated the womb of hip-hop with its materialistic values. With hip-hop being one of the most influential genres of music for the black community, it was only a matter of time before the black youth began to emulate the values perpetuated within the music. “Honestly I think it has all become a machine now,” says Shirley.” It is not about the craft anymore, it is not about the art form anymore… everything is soulless now. These businesses and corporations and record labels found a way to exploit hip-hop and make money off of it.” So, the question remains. Are we more than Gucci bags and Jordan? More than bad B****es? Or, have we gone from whips and chains to whips and chains and become modern-day vanity slaves?
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Words and Make-up By Kamaria Kafele Photo By Alexis Calhoun Design By Tony Watts Jr.
http://amourgenesis.blogspot.com/2011/06/makeup-madness-with-urban-decay.html
On the Eyes: I used Urban Decay’s “Suspect” and “Toasted” eyeshadows and “Sin” as the highlight under the brow.
Want a beautiful glowing face hours after the sun has set? Start off with M.A.C.’s “select cover-up concealer.” follow with Make up forever paris “high definition powder.”
Finishing Touches: Always remember to finish your look with eyeliner and mascara! For this look I used Maybelline New York Line Express Eyeliner and Colossal Volume mascara. JOURNEY
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Sources for make-up items http://weheartit.com/entry/28325322 http://www.monstersandcritics.com/smallscreen/features/article_1551800.php/Dancing-with-the-Stars-Season-10-Beauty-Report
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inter Beauty
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WORDS BY
MEET THE “GLAM RAPPER” WHO HAD HEADS SPINNING AT THIS YEAR’S HOMECOMING FASHION SHOW.
G
ive it to me all night long. Give it to me all night long,” rhymes Jubilee King Bee as he performs his colorful single to an audience of unsuspecting FAMU students at this year’s homecoming fashion show.
While there were the imprudent few who turned away at the sight of a flamboyant rapper on stage with an entourage of feminine male backup dancers, most of the crowd was engulfed by the performance as cross dressers sashayed down the runway to the sounds of the MC, who himself twirled across the stage in a pair of leopard heels and matching underwear. “As a non-straight man out here trying to exist in a Hip-Hop community, addressing my sexuality and bringing transsexuals to shows as ‘the crew’, I can understand how that can create a mind f*ck,” Jubilee says. At first glance Jubilee has the appearance of an average athletic male. It isn’t until he sits down and opens up about his performance style and personal life that you begin to notice how misleading his physical appearance is. This ambiguity has also carried over into his musical identity and stage performances. “One of my biggest challenges has been defining what I do,” says Jubilee. “Someone said that I’m like glam rap. I started playing with that and thought about glam rock, which was it’s own little thing. It was fabulous and it was big and it was colorful. So I’m playing with this concept right now of ‘Glam Rap.’” Although Jubilee is a gay performer he has more difficulty gaining support from the gay community than one would assume. He says in the gay community, as a performer, you need to be easily identifiable and his androgynous styled performances has created pause for many of the gay black promoters that Jubilee
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has tried to work with in the past. “Gay black promoters have told me straight up either you gon’ butch it up or you gon’ queen it out all the way,” says Jubilee. “Otherwise you don’t need to be on my stage because nobody can figure out what you are.” Having difficulty booking gigs at gay events, specifically gay events in the black community, Jubilee began looking outside of his target audience for shows. This led him to perform his ultra smutty single, “All Night Long” at this year’s fashion show. The song intermixes vastly different genres of music, including Hip-Hop and House, while incorporating a catchy sexually explicit hook. Jubilee admits that the song was also a way for him to reconnect with one of his Hip-Hop idols. “I felt like I had gotten away from my Lil’ Kim roots and it was time to be nasty again,” says Jubilee, whose full stage name, Jubilee King Bee, was partly inspired by the original self-proclaimed black Barbie. “It’s this openness to just being sexual and expressing your sexuality. It’s also the concept of not just being a quick thing. If I’m going to be a slut I’m going to do it up.” When he is busy doing it big as a “slut” on stage he remembers one cardinal rule of keeping it classy. “I like sluts in the classical sense, like Marilyn Monroe,” Jubilee says. This past summer Jubilee tied the knot with his long time beau Tillis Ward. Their ceremony was held outside and was attended by loving family members and supportive friends. Even though their marriage is not legally recognized in the state of Florida, to both Mr. JacksonWards, their union needs no validation from others. However, Jubilee says he was disappointed when he could not find an African-American pastor to officiate their marriage.
“I really wanted a black pastor to marry us, but we couldn’t find one here in Tallahassee that would do it,” says Jubilee. In October, three months after Jubilee’s wedding ceremony, a wedding video of newlyweds Nathanael Gay and Robert Brown exchanging vows before family members, friends and Gay’s fraternal brothers of Kappa Alpha Psi garnered national attention from the black community. “I’m tired of being constantly disappointed by the actions of black people when it comes to things like social inequality,” says Jubilee about the controversy. Although he was upset about the backlash the video received he was glad it was covered because it provided many people their first time viewing a gay black wedding. “Hey, gay weddings are just like straight weddings,” says Jubilee. “Just like mine. We had bridesmaids. We had groomsmen. I walked down the aisle. Nobody dropped from the ceiling. The tree didn’t catch on fire. It was a regular wedding.” Just as unconventional as his marriage, Jubilee doesn’t limit his music and hopes to explore a range of sounds to keep up with the evolving music industry. “Music changes,” says Jubilee. “What’s in style today may be totally out of style tomorrow so I want to be as fluid as the music is.” If his career in the entertainment industry doesn’t take off Jubilee hopes to complete his education degree and teach sex education. But no matter where life takes him Jubilee knows that if he has nothing else but his creative mind he will be set for life. “What I do have is a lot of joy and a lot of talent,” says Jubilee. “I’m capable of this infinite amount of creativity. I can be an artist. I can’t draw but if you give me some paint and a palette and say make something meaningful and expressive I’m going to work it out. Okay? I will work it the f*ck out.”
facebook.com/jubileekingbee youtube.com/jubileekingbee @jubileekingbee JOURNEY
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This winter, experiment with unconventional textures while embracing your inner kingpin and gangstress.
models( from left to right) 26
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Mark anthony Micka chavre
jordan thomas
anise neita
FAT BOY BRO (DOG)
photos by alexis calhoun d esign by chidozie acey Female stylist Robyn Mowatt male stylist Markel Mazelin make-up artist jaliyla dokes JOURNEY
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On Micka
White House Black Market
Black Jumpsuit $160 Black Fur Bolero $158 Black and Crystal Belt $98
Forever 21
Black Booties $22 On Anise
Dillards
Black Peplum Shirt $59
White House Black Market
Pencil Skirt $88
Belladonna
Blue Heels $86 On Mark
Dillards
Quilted Vest $99 Utility Cargo Kilt $70 Black Tag Pants $98 Carlton Boots $150 On Jordan
Dillards
Black Wool Wide Brim $59 Fedora Black Wool Peacoat $175 $125 Polo Knit Sweater Levi 510 Skinny Jeans $58 Nike Air Foamposite $250
SportKilt.com
Tiger Stripe Kilt
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$50
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On Micka
White House Black Market
White Dress $150 Tweed Jacket $168 Silver Clutch $58 Silver and Gold Belt $88
ALDO
Nude Heel $100 On Anise
White House Black Market
White Bustier $108 Black Pants $98 $38 Earrings
Forever 21
Black Booties $22 On Mark
Dillards
Polo Knit Sweater $125 $99 Quilted Vest Black Tag Pants $80 Nike Air Foamposite $250 On Jordan
Dillards
Black Double Breasted Trench Coat $59 Levi 510 Skinny $175 Jeans Nike Air Foamposite $250 “Eggplants” Vintage Ralph Lauren $40 Shirt
On Micka
White House Black Market
Black Lace Blouse $78 Black Bracelet $54
Dillards
Black Leather Skirt
$78
Ross
Black Knee-High Boots $78 On Anise
Dillards
Red Bandaid Dress
Forever 21
Black Booties
$98 $22
White House Black Market
Black and Crystal Necklace Gold Sequin Purse
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$22 $78 $48
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&
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