Does My Colour Scare You?

*That's an actual song title. Listen to it. It's a very powerful song.*

Lately I've noticed that when I roam the halls of my dorm, I get sidelong glances. When I reach the closest mirror, however, I don't see anything out of the ordinary. I don't have any stray hairs, no crumbs on my mouth, no missing clothing. It started to get slightly unnerving, especially when it happened when I passed a few people repeatedly. And then I reached the only conclusion that made sense: It's because I'm black.

I'm one of those people who don't really notice skin color unless someone makes a big deal about it. My parents raised me to, in the words of Martin Luther King, Jr., not judge people "by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character." I think this unsettles many people, my parents included. Certain genetic qualities are passed on by race, yes, but not personalities. That is learned and developed as the child grows. As I've said often, the only things that are "black" about me are my hair and my, let's face it, ass. While I admit that I do like hip-hop, R&B, and rap occasionally, and I do love fried chicken, watermelon, and cornbread, I think that these are mainly universal traits.

I don't wear Baby Phat, South Pole, FUBU, or Apple Bottoms. I can't krump or dance hip-hop to save my life. I use proper grammar, and have since I first learned it. My friends are all different colors and come from multiple walks of life. Just because I don't buy into the stereotypes of my race doesn't mean I think I'm better than my race, as I know some may believe about me. Quite the contrary is true. I'm proud of my heritage. I want the rest of the world to be as well.

I want to show the world that to be an African-American specifically doesn't mean you're from the ghetto, as the media portrays. We're not all poor and go to inner-city schools. We're not all involved in gangs. We don't all go to historically black colleges. We don't only associate with those from the same background as us. I will admit, though, that it is easier to do so.

My immediate family is probably the biggest family of "oreos" that you will find. When I visit a certain side of my family, I can see how different we are. My brother assimilates to them the least. He doesn't listen to hip-hop, isn't interested in sports, and basically has nothing in common with them. We just weren't raised the same way. Not to say that they were raised in a bad way.

I know I came from a fairly liberal suburb, about forty minutes south of Chicago. But the amount of people I've encountered that are surprised that a black person is in the Honors College, let alone has a 3.6 GPA, astounds me. There have been plenty of people this year, who know both my (white) roommate and me, who are genuinely shocked that I'm in the Honors College. They assumed that she was the one who let us live in the Honors dorm, not me. They've saved face by saying they thought she was in it as well. But these comments come from people who have never sat down with us and had a fairly intelligent conversation, so they have no basis to judge which one of us is in the Honors College.

I joke about my "oreo" status, but I know my mother doesn't like this. She thinks I should be more like the stereotype. I know people around campus wish I was. Sometimes, even I wish I was, just a little. Sometimes I feel like just knowing the history of my race isn't enough. I'm out to prove that we're not the stereotype, but sometimes I wish I was. At least, I wish I could dance hip-hop.

Live Like We're Dying

If only we could. I mean, I like the sentiments of this song, and songs like it, such as "If Today Was Your Last Day," but it's only good in practice. If I were to live like I was dying, then I wouldn't work out as often as I do (and that's not very often at all as of late), I wouldn't go to a majority of my classes, and I'd just sit around perusing my interests. I'd end up failing out of school and massively in debt with no way of paying it off.

So then I'd have to return home. And believe me, if I went home and told my parents I failed out of school because I was living like I was dying, then I'd be kicked out of the house or forced to get a job and pay for everything, including rent. And with no college degree, where would I end up? Taco Bell. So I wouldn't ever be able to escape it.

I wish I could live like I was dying. I'd travel everywhere with Dave, learn what I wanted from the internet, maybe enroll in classes that piqued my interest, and not keep in contact with people I don't want to. Maybe take on a job if life got boring. I know, I'm taking this too literally.

I know the sentiments behind songs like these is to not sweat the small stuff, and do something that you truly enjoy as often as you can, within reason. If you have the funds to do what you love on a daily basis, then that's how you're living like you're dying. If you're like me and don't, then you take what you can when the opportunity presents itself.

Don't be scared to take risks on things you want. Even if there's a chance you'll get hurt. Especially if there's a chance you'll get hurt (emotionally, that is).

What is Love?

Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more. Yes, that's the first thing that pops into my mind, because I'm almost always listening to music. There's always a song playing in my head. But that's really not the point of today's entry. Really, though, what is love?

People say it's undefinable, it's incredible. It can make you go crazy, literally. It's the best feeling in the world. It causes you the worst pain you'll ever experience. We have all these descriptions for it, but no one actually gets around to defining it. According to dictionary.com, love is "a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person." That's the best definition we get? The words seem to be lacking with what people actually feel in their hearts. That may be why we leave the process of describing and defining love to poets and writers. They know each word has been chosen for a purpose, and that this purpose is to convey what love truly is. Some of the best work has been from the most tormented souls. Some of my best work has come from a place I'm scared to visit again. But we generally only see the bad side of love through them.

Love should be celebrated. It's the reason some people live, a driving force behind what they do each day. More often than not, we want to know about the positive, to know that the love we feel is not for naught, but that it's actually worth something and will continue to benefit us. We like to see the happy endings in movies and TV shows and in books. We like reading that they live "happily ever after." Why? Because for half the nation, we don't get "happily ever after."

That's right, 50% of American marriages end in divorce. Why? Did they not love each other? Did they get married too young? Was it just puppy love? Is there really anything such as "irreconcilable differences," or are some people just too lazy to try and work through problems?

Or does our society continually get confused with "love" and "lust"? We believe they mean the same thing, but they really don't. Love is something you have with a person, after getting to know them on a deeply personal level. Love is being content just to spend five minutes with the person. Love is wanting to sit in silence with them, just to be in their presence. Love is doing something for them because you want them to be happy. Love is knowing that you would rather tear your own heart out than cause them pain. And love is leaving them behind when they ask, just because you care for their happiness just as much as your own, even if you're not with them.

Lust is purely sensual and physical. You can lust after someone you've met on the street. Many people do this. People lust after celebrities left and right. Even though these fans believe they love this person, they don't. They may love the idea of the person they've built up in their head, but more often than not people look much better on paper than they do in person.

I've been in the position to experience both, on multiple occasions. While most of the love I've encountered has been of the puppy variety, I still have been able to tell the difference between what I believed was love and what was lust. And lust is easily identifiable for the other person. Lust is that desire to just give in to your animal instincts, to be with the person to satisfy the deeper urge of your body. Lust starts in your genitals. Love is different. Love starts from your core, not your genitals. Love makes you want to be a better person so you can get closer to the ideal you. Love is spontaneously kissing them in the middle of the street. Love requires a certain amount of lust in order to make love, however. You cannot completely separate the two in that instance.

While many relationships have elements of both, the thing that makes a love a true love is what I've described, at least in my own experience. I've been in puppy love four times, with three different people. I've had the lusting experience twice. And I think I may now have reached that point I've described, about being content to sit with them in silence for five minutes, to have your love start in your core, and to stay up at night missing them next to you because you sleep better with them near.

Love may be painful, it may cause many sleepless nights, and it may be extremely difficult to live through. Lust may be instantly gratifying, easier to separate yourself from, and a rush. But I'd take love over lust any day.

As Long As You Love Me

How do you know when you're ready to get married? I've got a few friends who are engaged and planning on getting married soon, and before I couldn't figure out why they wanted to get married so young. I mean, we've got the rest of our lives ahead of us, why settle now? I've been at the place I thought most of these people were at a few times before. I know most of these people are still dating their first boyfriend/girlfriend, and I know how I felt with my first boyfriend. I was thinking that since we were so in love that we would last forever and get married. We had plans to do so, even. They were extremely vague, but they involved him going into the marines and sending his money so I could go to school, and then being set for life so I could pursue my passion: writing. Needless to say it didn't work out.

There's always a point in time in a real relationship where you think that maybe you two can last and eventually get married. At least, this has been my experience. Even if it's not very realistic, the thought crosses your mind. It may not stay there for long, but it's there. But I've never gotten further than wondering if our future careers will mesh and, as was the case with my first boyfriend, how our monetary situations would pan out. I was informed once that the boyfriend I had the longest relationship with was planning on proposing to me. Luckily he didn't, because I wouldn't have been able to accept it. So I've almost gotten a proposal, and I'm pretty sure I got an engagement ring from the same person for a present. But this is as far as I've ever gotten.

This year's different. In my free time I like to watch Say Yes to the Dress, and am starting to get interested in a wedding dress. Sometimes when I'm bored I'll even shop for wedding dresses online. I've decided that I would like an autumn wedding. I've got a very good idea of who my bridesmaids will be. I've even looked at engagement rings online. But in my defense it was in an article that I was reading. I've briefly thought of who I would need to invite to my wedding, and I have an idea of what kind of wedding cake I want. Granted, this is because I watch too much Food Network, but I've got the idea in my head. My boyfriend and I have even been discussing it, although it is very briefly and in passing. He also wants an autumn wedding, he wants a small wedding, and he's already planning the first dance.

Although this has all been spread out over the course of the past few months, I keep thinking about getting engaged. I know that I'm not ready to get engaged, and that my parents won't approve of it. We've only been dating for five months, and we've had our ups and downs. Even though I know this, even though I know it'll be hard for me to do what I want to do with my life if I get married early, and even though it seems like our relationship is rocky lately instead of smooth sailing, I keep thinking about getting engaged. It's not going to happen for at least two years, unless I get pregnant before then, which I'm not planning on doing anytime soon.

Even though I know this, I keep having this urge to get engaged. I guess that means that I think I've found the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. That, or I'm going crazy. And honestly, either of those scenarios is entirely plausible.