Don't tell me who I am.

        

Nigerian or Nigerian-American? This question comes to mind every time someone asks about my last name. No doubt, I carry my heritage with pride. As a first-generation American, I find myself caught in between two cultures and lacking the qualifications by some to officially claim either one. My parents immigrated to the US in the 1980’s, just in time for my sister to claim her American citizenship by birth. From childhood, my cultural experiences were an odd blend of Nigerian and American expectations.            

           As a Nigerian girl I was expected to respect all elders, learn how to properly prepare Agousi soup, and always put my education on the top of my list. However, my American atmosphere provided a platform where respect to anyone is earned not learned, where the ability to successfully make Mac & Cheese in the microwave was a rite of passage to adulthood, and homework would be done if time persisted. I couldn’t really pinpoint these specific differences growing up, but I did recognize that I was a bit different from my classmates.

           Now as an adult-or the beginnings of one-I have mastered my “double-life” quite well. It’s almost like being bilingual. I can understand both cultures and switch mannerisms back and forth when necessary. For a while, I’ll forget the re-occurring tendency for people to classify me as either a Nigerian or an American. Never both. Amongst Nigerians, I am an American. My voice, my mannerisms, and my lack of ability to speak my parent’s native tongue all categorize me as a ‘foreigner’. However, amongst Americans, my voice, my mannerisms, and my last name classify my as only an African. I got used to people saying, “Oh, you’re not Nigerian,” or, ” Oh, you’re not a American then, you’re Nigerian.” But who’s to classify me, as me?

        People are only given the opportunity to categorize you if you hand them a blank label. So let me take this chance to label myself, before anyone else does. I am Elizabeth. I am Nigerian. I am American. I am Igbo. I am Ishan. I am me. So take this as your opportunity to write your label. Who are you?

~Elizabeth Uduehi

Pedestrian Privilege

        In the wake of three tragic accidents, leaving one dead, pedestrian safety has become top priority on IU’s list. Many are mourning the tragic death of sophomore, Peter Duong. As a fellow Hudson and Holland scholar, I interacted with him on different occasions. Now the thought of his non-existence on this earth seems too unreal. Reflecting upon his death and its cause, it brings on the issue of pedestrian privilege. IU is declared a walking campus, so we all have gotten use to the 15 minute walks from class to class. However, what bothers me the most about this “walking campus” policy is the lack of safety measures taken to protect those that follow it.

        Yes, there are stop signs and bright little symbols that allow you to come and go, but it is no surprise to even the Bloomington Police that students j-walk using all types of strategies to bypass oncoming cars. With this reality, it’s sad that it takes 3 tragedies within 48 hours to spark administrative interest. I may not have lived in the Northwest neighborhood, but I’ve been there enough times to know how dangerous it is in many different aspects.

        Hordes of students are constantly crossing Fee Lane, buses are coming and stopping, and overzealous drivers are whizzing past Foster, McNutt, and Briscoe showing everyone what Mommy and Daddy bought them this summer.

Amongst these behaviors and actions, something would have to give. Unfortunately, a life was the wakening moment for not only IU administration, but students as well. So as we head out of our apartments, dorms, and classrooms, be cautious whether you are driving or walking.  And as juvenile as it sounds, look BOTH ways! Don’t think that as college students we are exempt from child-like mistakes.

In respect and memory of a great human being-- I notice that in the wake of a death, it's amazing how priceless everything becomes. For at least a brief period you begin to cherish the ones that love you and forget the ones that never have. -R.I.P. Peter Duong

~Elizabeth Uduehi

The Re-Education of Hip-Hop

Shout to The Urban Daily for this uplifting post. According to them via ABC News, Roc Nation’s newly signed J. Cole graduated from college Magna Cum Laude. This is incredible for hip-hop, a culture that has recently promoted a no school zone policy.

Historically hip-hop has been the voice of those marginalized. Individuals who have experienced life with a lack of economical, political and social power to make changes in their community. There was a time when these issues were the focal point of rhymes, but the mainstream appeal of “thug life” has occupied the mic for the last 20 years, or as long as I have been alive.

You always had your artists who spit more than your average rapper, touching on politics, gender roles, anti-violence and pro-education rhetoric. The Chuck D’s and Talib Kweli’s evoked a sense of hip-hop lost in the array of bullets, drugs and sex of the mid-90s and early 2000s. Then something changed. A confidently insecure college dropout, turned producer, turned rapper pushed the envelope as to what hip-hop could be.

He hadn’t sold drugs and he loved his mama. He spoke out against the atrocities of the government and of our own detrimental behavior as a people. He cried for Jesus to walk with him even in his daily sin. He brought an individuality to an art form that had lost its creativity. He opened the door for hip-hop to explore its horizons, to grow up.

Thus, we have artists like Lupe Fiasco, who’s The Cool was an entire retort to this life of destruction young black males and females are leading in the name of hip-hop. This culture of illiteracy is being challenged. The fact that J. Cole graduated from college speaks volumes to where the future of rap music is headed. And I am sure he isn’t the only one with a Bachelor’s in something other than making it rain. Only now these artists, the Asher Roth’s and Wale’s, have a platform to stand upon, and we the listeners are all ears.

~illist90skd

Listen up Ladies: If you want better men, endorse better men.

It sounds all too familiar:  A good woman with a good job and a good upbringing dates the “bad boy”.  Sure, in the short-term, the idea may seem sexy, dangerous, and exciting but what happens in the long term?  Infidelity?  Prison?  Death?  Abuse?  Some other undesirable outcome?  More often than not, this devilishly tempting relationship ends up in disaster. Yet the same women who date such men are often the most vocal about the dearth of “good men”.  This is interesting indeed, but what is more interesting is the effect that women’s demand for bad boys has on men and their self-concept.

Rewind.  Go back to elementary school.  Try to remember the most popular boys in your class.  What type of boys were they?  If your grade school experience was anything like mine then they were usually the class clowns, the truants, and the thugs—or, for lack of better words, the bad boys.  Comparatively, the honor-roll listed, future physicians that sat in the front of the class were probably the “geeks” that were the minnows for the bad boy sharks (illogically, much to the girls’ glee).  What type of impact does this have on the male psyche? 

Men, let’s be honest.  ALL of our strivings are intended to attract women in some way, shape, or form.  If we desire to build muscular bodies, it is because we heard some woman shriek about a hot-bod actor she saw on television (think Brad Pitt, Vin Diesel, or Morris Chestnut).  If we pursue high-paying jobs, it is because we know that women value men that are “balling”.  When (if) we shop for cologne, we purchase whatever the heavily powdered saleswoman behind the counter recommends. My point is that no matter what we do, we seek to maximize our desirability among women at all times.  This point holds important implications for women—especially those in pursuit of good men.

Fast forward.  What happens to the aspirations of those physician-bound boys that attract little, if any, female attention throughout elementary school and even throughout middle and high school?  Might they be tempted to “repackage” themselves to be more desirable to women?  Of course!  They will not be officially “balling” until they are done with medical school—which will take YEARS.  Fortunately (and unfortunately) for them, there is a way they can boost their status among women before they finish medical school!  How so?  Become thugs! This way, they can earn quick cash and street credentials thereby appealing to the instant gratification appetites of the women they seek to attract.  Few men can deny trying to “be tough” or “look cool” to boost their status among women.  Unfortunately, for some promising boys this comes at a cost.  Some of these newly “thugged-out” boys are beyond repair.  They get involved with the wrong people and the wrong things.  They effectively become the bad boys that they originally saw the hottest girls pursue.  As a result, the “thug population” increases and the pool of “good guys” that most “good girls” eventually decide to pursue shrinks.  Allow me to put this in its proper context.  It is common knowledge that there are more women than there are men in the U.S.  It is also common knowledge that women are increasingly achieving higher educational levels than their male counterparts are.  Therefore, in Macroeconomic terms, women find that the demand for “good men” greatly exceeds its supply.   They had better chances of nabbing a “good guy” in elementary school before the harmful effects of peer influence set in. 

What am I getting at? Ladies, if you want good men, endorse good men.  Teach your nieces, little sisters, and daughters to desire “high potential geeks" over “thugs”.  Place value on men who demonstrate academic achievement and/or who display other abilities that translate into income generation and fatherhood prowess.  This way, through your magical feminine powers over the male psyche, you increase your chances of mating with the “good guy” that you need and deserve.  Leave the thugs alone!  You are only exposing yourself to heartache while also shrinking the pool of quality men who would love to date you! 

~Donny Brook