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Attempts to thrive simultaneously in both the black world at home and the white world at school soon gave way to a misguided quest for assimilation into the latter. This alienation - coupled with static from black friends in my neighborhood for “acting white” - properly knocked my racial identity off its axis. I spent those years being reminded of my blackness, mostly in negative ways. In my teen years, I went to a private school held up by many as the best in the area, but I quickly learned I wasn’t like the other boys, virtually all white and upper-middle to upper class. My parents’ had seen enough, and worked their magic to get me a shot at testing into the Calvert School, alma mater of John Waters, which I attended until sixth grade. My first and only year of public school was overcrowded and out of control: A classmate told me to say ahh, then promptly stabbed me in the roof of my mouth with a pencil. My parents went to great lengths to assure that I received the best education the city could offer and a shot at opportunities they never got. My father was a Vietnam vet who quit his warehouse job upon the birth of my younger sister to become Mr. My mother was a government employee who worked impossibly hard, as black mothers with hardheaded black children often do. I came up in a decidedly middle-class, entirely black neighborhood in Baltimore. Clearly, he didn’t know how white my childhood surroundings had been. During pledging, there was a frat brother who’d make me sing country music at dinner no way the house colored boy would be into country, he probably wagered. That was recent! “They’re probably all proud Republicans,” I couldn’t help but think.Īt the time, I saw nothing wrong with this environment. When I passed the old group photos hung in the frat house, I would scan previous chapters for other chocolate faces. I signed up willingly for the puking and the push-ups and the fists through panes of glass and the destruction of property and the coke-fueled misery that led to my half-assed suicide attempt and the being shitty to women and all the clichés of being a “frat dawg.” The chapter has since been shut down.) I took a bleak sort of pride in making the house’s worst hazer laugh so hard he had to leave the room, but I couldn’t see my shucking and jiving for what it was. (My hell week ended with someone losing the top half of a finger. It was a stupid bit of levity in an otherwise out-of-control 10-week hazing process. Older guys seeking to humiliate me and 10 other strangers laughed when, after being told in a “lineup” to actually “Fuck the wall like I meant it!,” I asked said wall if “she” enjoyed my black cock. In the house I settled on, the hazing was mental from the jump. It was nothing short of a drunk’s providence that landed me at 3 Frat Row. During orientation, I asked which houses hazed the worst and drank the hardest. Fraternity culture gave me a place where I could indulge the way I wanted, without loved ones or teachers or longtime friends to slow me down. Never mind that I was the first in my family to go to a proper university. I was a blackout drunk, and I resolved long before setting foot on campus to surround myself with other blackouts, even if they were all white. White kids trying to be black don’t count, of course. In the fall of 2003, I pledged a fraternity, the only chocolate member in the whole house.
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I write this in the hopes of reaching that lost black body floating adrift in the chaos of racial identity - just like I did for much of my life.
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Instead, my mind went to that kid who still longed to be the unwanted “nigger” in a fraternity where he’d be like Baldwin’s “fly in the buttermilk.” That black boy or girl who has no idea who the hell s/he is, who thinks that finding a home in places like the SAE house might offer some desperately needed sense of belonging. I never believed the lie of a post-racial America, so new heights of white shittiness don’t surprise me. The OU frat video released earlier this week shocked the nation. “There will never be a nigger in SAE!” chanted a bunch of Biebers from the dark side.