Your Friendly Neighborhood Black Man

Dear White Man’s World,

It’s been a long time since we really talked. Approximately years 600 years to my count. Through all the lies and misconceptions painted about me, I really haven’t felt the need to talk to you. But a beautiful black woman has been telling me for years I need to express my emotions and what’s on my mind. So here we are.

The first thing that comes to mind is the mass images that depicts me as a sex driven angry behemoth that only wants sex with women, white women to be exact. I’m more than that. I am a king that has, and truth be told still, rules the world. With out me, there would be no Man. With out me, there would be no America. Without me there would be no American dream. Let me ask you a question. If you never received the credit you deserved for your contributions to the world, wouldn’t you be mad? If all you were told your whole life was that your were nothing and would never be nothing, how would you feel? If you grew up hearing from your own mothers and queens that there were no good black men, how would you feel? I’m TIRED of being known for my dick extremities and not my mind. My body is a temple, and only those special to me have the privilege to know it yet my mind is a contributor to the world.

Another issue with you I have had for centuries is the perpetuating cycle of slave to master circumstances. WE ARE MEN. NOT SERVANTS. Modern day entertainment industries that disproportionately utilize African Americans men for their physical abilities yet never offer them adequate pay and opportunities to climb business latter’s to hold power beyond courts and fields are concurrent with share cropping industries after slavery. While we bring countless amounts of money to a select few, we never amount to be apart of the select few. You need us more than we need you. We can, and have in the past, ran and operated successful Negro leagues where we were the barons of the industry. While Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier, we still play in a segregated arena. Blacks on the field, whites in the stands. We gave up on Negro league dreams for spots in the field picking cotton passes from the sky. What the hell were we thinking? Among the fortune 500 companies, there are only 8 African American CEO’s, and ONLY ONE of those is a woman. And why is it that not until 2003, with the Charlotte Bobcats, that no African Americans was a majority owner of a professional sports organization. Always a slave never a slave master I guess.

Lastly, but not least, I have a bone to pick with you because of the divide you have wedged between my Queen and I. Never have royalty been so divided, hence the problems that have arisen within our kingdom. When you redefine the family and its structure, you create centuries of problems. Some issues to arise at later dates such as the lost relationship between a father and his son. I def commend your friend Willie Lynch. He’s been hard at work for the last 150 years. My family is nothing to play with. And I miss seeing my family everyday, both literally and through images and depictions in media. There are scarce depictions of fully functioning black families in the media and most date in the 60’s, 70’s and some in the 90’s. Yet no matter what the venue, white families seem to always have things together. Maybe a factor of the continued demise of the black family is the belief that our community is destroyed or the lack of a positive functioning community. Maybe my Queen and I will be back in each other’s good graces once we no longer see our self-fighting and see our self loving each other.

At the end of the day, we live in the same world and time. We need each other. Time has proven that. I know your mind and vision is clouded with that superiority complex. But I need you to hear what I’m about to say clearly. This is not your world and you are not special. Historically, you have just been more vicious, hence your position of comfort. But today is a new day with another one dawning. And your time is almost up. A new way of thinking is coming and its time for YOU to conform.

In love and affection

Your Friendly Neighborhood Black Man.

Top 10 Slept On Hip Hop Albums in History

1 Rhyme Fest: Blue Collar
2 Fort Minor: The Rising Tied
3 Talib Kweli: The Beautiful Struggle
4 Common: Finding Forever
5 Gnarles Barkley: The Odd Couple
6 Hi Tek: High TeKnology 2
7 Lloyd Banks: The Hunger for More
8 The Knux: Remember me in 3Days
9 Flobots: Fight With Tools
10 88 Keys- Death of Adam

In an age where Hip Hop is being redefined as a culture and hip-hop heads do battle with mainstream; the music still speaks for the people. Transcending race, gender, sexual orientation and of course economic privilege, Rap “hip hop” may have reached a time of acceptance in mainstream. When artist play major roles in public acceptance of public figures, I ask, what clout and power does hip hop posses.
Historically, music has always played a role in social and political actions. From musicians thrashing presidents in their lyrics to outright denouncing politicians, music as a form is a beautiful forum to exercise our first amendment rights. With the exercise of that right, I look at African Americans and the contributions they have made to every genre of music. Establishing rock and roll, jazz, blues, and arguably country, Blacks voices theoretically have been heard through out time. But today we live in an age of media dominance and filtered messages where artist are rewarded for brainless creativity over motivational messages. And with hip-hop as one of today’s most popular and financially successful genres; does HIP HOP ARTIST have the ability to overcome the barriers of muffled messages and the dogma of mainstream?
First lets adequately identify and define Hip-Hop. Hip Hop: a culture encompassing; clothing that represents, but is not limited to, an urban community, food that is commonly sold/found/eaten within urban areas, a vernacular that transcends the basic English language with encrypted metaphors and similes that many can identify with; and music that tells the stories and struggles of the people that make it and those they make it for. Hip Hop is commonly confused with its red headed stepbrother Rap. The distinctive difference is one being a culture, the other being a music genre.
Hip-hop is facing the same struggles that the African American man made culture has been facing for decades. Mainstream rejection and monetary exploitation. I ask the question; why must an artist conform to industry standards to succeed? Y are the top selling Rap “Hip Hop” artist producing products with no substance and the artist truly representing the people and their voices kept grounded and their wings clipped by the industry? I know all this is subjective and my opinion, but next time you listen to lil wayne, ask yourself “Do I really do that many drugs? Does this really represent me?” I’m not downplaying fun party music. It should be embraced. We all need down time. I’m simply asking, what about the other side. Don shit in my bowl and call it cereal! Don’t write some bull shit rap and call it hip-hop. And when it comes back to my original question, “What clout and power does hip hop posses?” The answer is none. It only possesses the hopes and dreams of a people under sung and under heard.

The Reinvention of Hue

Three years down, two years to go. Heading into my fourth year as a UC bearcat, I realize that i have come a long way from the quiet nerd boy that sat on the tire hump on the school bus. Within my life time I've experienced many joys and some pains, all of which have built the young man i am to day. When evaluating my life, I look at the past 3 years as having the biggest affect on me and the time in which i have grown the most.

I walked onto campus thinking i knew everything just like many other freshmen. I was in for a rude awakening. Within one month i got involved on campus, specifically the black community, and decided i wanted to leave my mark on campus. In order to do that i needed to drop the "I know everything attitude" and listen to what others had to say. In steps those that have molded me into a leader and the young man known as Huey B.

My time at UC has been heavily influenced by a select few mentors that i have the privilege to call family. The first person to take me under their wing was Qasim McCreagh. He showed me the meaning of being a bearcat. He explained the importance of being involved and taught me how to get involved. Qasim has and will always be my brother.

When thinking of my time at UC, i cant even separate memories of UBSA and Christina Brown. Christina showed me what it was like to be a black student on UC's campus. She identified with me and the goals i had for our community. Through countless conversations and Center Court swipes, she taught me the ways of student activism. The smallest things such as knowing when to speak out and when to listen were products of our friendship and so much more. Christina is that sister that i can always ask for guidance. If she has an answer, shell share it. If she doesn't, she will send you in the right direction.

With year four on the horizon, i find my self in new shoes. As a mentor for younger students, i can only hope to have the same affect on them as those that came before me had on myself. But I'm also faced with another predicament. How do i identify my self as a leader in a new era of emerging leaders? Is it my place to vouch for all those i know and believe to have greatness in them, even when they fail to live up to it? Do i lead by example and be a beacon of resilience or do i guide others to reach their full potential? So many questions that run through my head as a new school year is on the horizon. Only one thing is certain. Im at a stage where I know I'm preparing for something, and college is the training ground