The Unashamed Introvertish Girl Blog

The idea came from a combination of a few silly memories. The first was my freshman year of college. We had an open-door policy. That basically means, any Joe Blow with an ID could walk into your dorm room and say things like, “PG people like to party.” The second was the driver of this nostalgic series, my time at Suitland High School, which in itself holds so many sub-memories of community, black excellence and culture.

The curiosity surrounding a place where my everyday life existed, a place that I called home made me laugh. It made my think, and it made me grateful. I wanted to share what I had learned from being away was a unique life experience. But even more than that, I wanted to share what had been instilled into me by my parents from the time I was a child, self-love and community pride.

Though many surprisingly look at where I come from as this mystical, far-off cultural dreamland, many also believe stereotypes. Stereotypes that I had heard my entire life. Stereotypes that I had learned to look through with x-ray vision to see the root of. It was always either ignorance or intimidation.

I wrote this for the urban girls, like me. The men, women and children who aren’t just puns, or abstract concepts you discuss in your urban studies class, but real people. I wrote this so that you could be reminded of your distinction, your resilience, the little things you say and do that you don’t even think about, because it’s your culture. The culture that many want to copy, but less want to respect. The culture that you create everyday you wake up and live.

I wrote this for the black millennials. The ones that I watched lead the second civil rights movement from my dorm room. The ones whose faces were laughed in for demanding basic human rights. The one’s who will go down in history.

I wrote this for anybody who was willing to listen with an open mind, as I opened my mind and my heart, and grabbed precious memories, priceless lessons and powerful truths.

I wrote this for you, and now I want to give you something else.

Today, the outlier of all unashamedintrovertishgirl.blogspot.com series has been read hundreds of times by readers across the globe, and this is just the beginning. The series is not ending, it’s evolving.

Listen to the clip below for a sneak peek of my next project, and sign-up for my email list to get exclusive updates on its official release.

The marathon continues….

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“12 Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me.”

-Philippians 3:12

When I was in college, I worked as an intern for two different campaigns in two different areas of local government. It was my job to familiarize myself with the goals that each candidate had for their respective communities and convey that, sometimes through writing and sometimes by directly speaking to the public.

It was then that I realized something that people don’t really seem to speak much about and don’t really understand. The truth watered my passion for social justice that had been growing over the years and tied many loose ends regarding social issues together in my mind.

The truth is, local politicians can have an even greater impact on the inner workings of our everyday lives than the

president. They make decisions about how to spend your tax payer dollars, the best ways to utilize and handle the resources in your city and enact policies that merge those two factors.

The first day of my second campaign,
I was out going door to door.

Their decisions impact the quality of the schools you attend, some of the major organizations and infrastructure that pops up in your neighborhood, public programs, such as transportation, and so much more.

They are sometimes called public servants. So basically, you pick the woman or man you want to do the job based on whether or not you like how they choose to do it, you pay a portion of their salary with your taxpayer dollars, (unless they are an unpaid volunteer or from a small town where only a small stipend is offered) and they do what you as a community collectively ask. Our elected officials, whether we voted for them or not, are supposed to work for us.

It’s almost like you’re the CEO of your own community. If you see something you don’t like, you can change it. If you discover something you want to add, go do that. That’s how democracy works.

What’s disturbing is the fact that many communities don’t seem to fully understand this fact. You don’t have to accept what’s handed to you, you go and respectfully demand what you want to see.

I encourage you to demand the absolute best quality of life for yourself and your community. Many of the communities that people describe as “so nice” and “top notch” have the most active and demanding citizens.

I want us all to be able to describe our communities as “so nice” and “top notch” or whatever more hip terminology you like to use.

Don’t wait for things to get better. Get up and go get better. The power is in your hands.

Go get what you want. Go get what you deserve.

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”

~2 Timothy 1:7

STAY TUNED FOR A SURPRISE AT THE END OF THIS SERIES!!!

1. President Obama Flew Past My House

On an almost weekly basis, the presidential helicopter would fly past my home. As a little girl, I loved being able to point toward the sun roof of my parents’ cars and say, “there goes the president.” It was special to be walking my little Maltese and be halted by the sound of wind slicing propellers from the row of helicopters that would escort the president of the United States.

2. Crazy Metro Story

When I was about three or four years old, my paternal grandmother, two of the kids she babysat, and I got trapped on an out of service metro train. It was during the day, when many were at work, so it wasn’t like it was easy to tell that the train was out of service. The doors opened and the lights were on so we boarded the train. After a few minutes, we realized we were on a out of service train. We frantically pushed the emergency help button and shortly after a staticky voice came through the speaker. An attendant came a few moments later by walking through the doors that connected each train to manually let us off. I remember being so afraid that I closed my eyes, bowed my head and started praying.

We're Nat's fans.

3. Our Music: GoGo

So I started listening to GoGo Music (somewhat) seriously in tenth grade. I guess I shouldn’t say really seriously. I wasn’t a “GoGo Head” or anything. I feel really old using that term. I’m resisting the urge to say, “oops now I’m showing my age.” Anyway, in high school, gogo music was all over the place. I used to love when they would play it over the cafeteria speaker at lunch, and sometimes let people get up and chop or just dance. I remember when I was on the dance team, during my first pep rally performance, we danced to a mix, with a popular GoGo song in it. I really wish I had a clip. I feel like I have very little footage of my high school dancing days. I stopped listening to most mainstream music shortly after, so I wasn’t up to date with the latest trends in GoGo.

Interestingly enough, during my sophomore year of college, I was reintroduced to Gospel GoGo at an event and have been listening to it ever since. Whenever I was a little home sick, or in need of encouragement, I would blast it through my headphones or my little black Bose speaker.

There was a spacesuit behind my desk.

4.Opportunities

Being so close to the nation’s capital provides many unique learning, employment and general experiential opportunities. I remember visiting the White House in preschool, walking the steps of the monument in elementary school and interning at the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum in college. Sure, you can travel here and receive those same opportunities, but I think it’s really cool and convenient to live so close. Those are just a few of the opportunities and experiences that I’ve been blessed to enjoy. There’s many more I could name, but even with those on my list, there’s still a lot of places I haven’t been that I would like to explore in the near future.

5. Social Justice Events/Marches/Notable Figures

In the same light, there were also plenty of opportunities to participate in social justice oriented events such as marches and rallies. One of my greatest memories is being pulled out of school early in 5th grade to participate in an annual Black Rights Awareness march and rally and walking alongside several notable and everyday African Americans who were concerned about their communities. That stuck with me, and helped shape how I view myself and the world.

If you look very closely you can see Stevie Wonder.

Another great event was Dr. King Day during the era of Former President Obama, the first black president. As you can imagine, and probably remember, that was a very significant and special time in history. My mom and I went out to do community service that day and several celebrities of all kinds were in town. I feel like I’m mixing up two different days now, but that’s okay. If I am, they were around the same time. I remember ending either that day, or another day, singing Happy Birthday, Ribbon in the Sky or both along with Stevie Wonder, behind a few hundred other people.

6. Proximity

Okay, I’m going to say this, and don’t get mad, but the DMV has experienced tremendous geographic growth over the last few years, and no the earth didn’t expand. Butttt, I’ve seen a lot of hardcore arguments on social media and I don’t want to incite anything, so I’m going to leave that alone (shade). But, on a serious note, it’s cool to be so close to D.C., Northern Virginia and Maryland. I think it was originally called the DMV because all of D.C., some parts of Maryland and Northern Virginia are all connected. That was the little area that people referred to as the DMV, I thought. But if you’re from either of the two states or D.C., today, you most likely consider yourself a part of the DMV, and I’m all for unity and local pride, so hello everyone out there with those three letters in your Twitter bio.

Here is a beautiful view of "that hill" from my old dorm.

7. Weather

So it’s true what they say. We get all four seasons here and at anytime, any one of those seasons can be very dramatic. Sometimes we get blizzards. Some of my favorite were the blizzard of 2010 where we got two weeks off of school. (If you don’t remember that you’re too young.) And, there was a big one my freshman year of college where we got a little over a week off. I lived in a huge dorm with a big hill in front of it. I remember hearing buzz about people sneaking trays out of the cafeteria to use as sleds, then looking out of my window watching people risk their lives and slide prostrate down the hill on a tray that I had probably used to carry a piece of pizza on a few weeks earlier. Sometimes we get severe storms. Every once in a while there is a very small tornado touch down. I remember one major hurricane and a “derecho” that was a pretty big deal. We get small Earth quakes every once in a while too, and no, I didn’t feel that last one. I was on the metro.

8. People

Finally, what’s any experience without good people? I appreciate and admire you the people of the DMV. We’re kind of like a mix between busy, straightforward New Yorkers, and deep Southerners, but not as nice (even though we’re technically considered the South, nobody here considers themselves a Southerner, except maybe some deep VA, eastern MD people). What I’m really trying to say is that you guys are alright.

Stay tuned for a surprise at the end of this series!

9 But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light;

~1Peter 2:9

Here's one of my fav Gogo songs:

Think of the most ghetto name you’ve ever heard. Now think of why you think it’s ghetto.

Who makes the rules? Who gets to decide what constitutes civil culture and what does not? For far too long, African Americans have looked at themselves through this dystopian lens that I believe lingers from an earlier time.

Your hair is not unruly. It’s fluffy, like a cloud. The way you talk is not improper. It’s a dialect, an ethnic variation of standard English. Your name is not ghetto. It’s the result of your parents’ creativity, their courage in a world where so many are afraid to be different.

Far too often, being your best, when you’re black means hiding or erasing critical parts of your culture. We are told to speak in a more widely recognized and accepted style when going for interviews. Our hair must be straightened during formal events, because there’s just something about tight curls that is unceremonious. (Don't get me wrong. I love my straightened hair, but I also love my afro-textured hair.)

When some of us rise above the systemic issues that affect our local communities, we are encouraged to run away and never look back. I understand that for some, this is truly a life or death situation, and I’m not talking about you, if that's your circumstance. However, if you can, why not reach back and help. We all have something that can help someone younger or less experienced in some way.

Of course, over the past few years, this type of thinking has significantly decreased and we are in a period of increased cultural discovery, thoughtfulness and appreciation, but let’s not stop there. Let’s keep going until all the little aspects of our culture that are viewed as negative are examined and seen for what they truly are.

Stop seeing negativity where there is cultural beauty. Do not look down on your cultural riches. Have a high regard for them and wear them like a crown.

Retrain your brain to see yourself the way God does.

I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

Marvelous are Your works,

And that my soul knows very well.

~Psalm 139:14

Any thoughts? Share them below.

A thick streak of purplish gold beat diagonally down on my forehead as I took the last large leap off a bulky yellow school bus into a sea of red shirts and brown faces. It was August in Prince George’s County and my very first day of public school.

Amid daps, playful teenage chatter “what’s goods”and exhilirating reunions I took a two second pause to take in my new reality. My cinematic moment was interupted by a familiar face in a blue dress. It was my mom.

Just a few months prior, my family and I were bombarded with horror stories, about the local public schools. I’ll never forget the widened pupils, gasps and glares of saddness that I got in return for telling people that I was going to a public high school, and not just any public high school, but Suitland High School, what many considered one of the biggest, baddest schools in PG County.

After squeezing through the crowd and recognizing a few familiar faces from here and there, I stepped into not just a school, but an awakening experience that would change how I viewed the world forever, one of the DMV’s best kept secrets.

As I got acclimated into my new life, I developed a second pulse. For the first time, I felt the true rythm of the DMV beating in my heart, and developed a fresh, new love for my community.

It was like a veil was torn, a barrier was broken. I was given access to another level of self-awareness that I never knew I was missing. Going to a school that beared the name of the city I’m from, Suitland, located on the PG/DC line, exposed me to the people around me, the ones I saw everyday They were no longer strangers, but schoolmates. The world became a lot smaller, and a lot more exciting.

I had experienced local culture in a way that I never had. Dialect, motivation, belief systems, music, all of it, was right there, all in one. I had a front row seat, and like always, I took it all in.

I joined clubs which gave me a full experience, landed me in parades, groomed me into a leader and allowed me to recycle my time right back into the community where I lived. I was accepted into the rigorous IB Program which offered a college-level curricula with global insights.

As the years went by, I reflected on the words that people told me before I arrived, and they were nothing like what I had experienced.

People define “cultured” as those who have traveled the world and have no less than a six figure income, and yes, I guess you can say that’s true. But as a result of this experience, I too consider myself cultured. The DMV culture, which we should indeed acknowledge as a culture, is very strong, and greatly admired, if you haven’t noticed.

At Suitland High School, I was immersed into this culture and saw many shades of Black excellence from Gates-Milleniam scholars to Juilliard-admitted classical singers.

Obvious, like every institution there were imperfections, but the bringht light from the excellence outshined it all. The force from the strong, unified Black culture at my more than 90% black school outweighed it.

Ever since then, I’ve been left with the two contrasting elements inside of me, what I heard versus what I experienced. As you just read, it didn’t quite match.

Every so often, in one way or another, through words and actions, I hear that early narrative, from those who have not been able to experience what I experienced. And then there’s the good memories, that make me smile, the ones I’ll never forget, the excellence that I still wear to this day.

Of course you know I had to take a side. The side of what I saw, what I experienced. The debate, still very much alive in me has spilled over into my choice of profession, mass communication, because this messages needs to be heard.

During my undergraduate years at Towson University, it slowly worked its way into my conversations, creeped into my research papers, slid into my presentations and now here it is, again.

Today it remains my motivation as I pursue a graduate degree at Georgetown University with a community-centered end goal in mind.

It just won’t go away because this dystopian view of Black Culture, internally and externally still exists. And I exist to change that.

This is Back Home, The Culture Series.

"But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at his appearance or at his physical stature, because I have refused him. For the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart."

~1 Samuel 16:7

*Stay tuned for a surprise at the end of this series*

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It's Not Over (Back Home Finale + Sneak Peek)

Back Home The Culture Series Q&A

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8 Short Stories and Fun Facts About Growing Up in the DMV (Back Home)

What's In a GHETTO Name? (Back Home)

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It's Not Over (Back Home Finale + Sneak Peek)

Back Home The Culture Series Q&A

What I Learned From Working in Politics

8 Short Stories and Fun Facts About Growing Up in the DMV (Back Home)

What's In a GHETTO Name? (Back Home)

My Experience Attending One of the Biggest and Baddest Schools in PG County (Back Home)

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