Nice Words

This week has been hectic, crazy, busy, and lazy. As I reflect on my life and my time as a college student, I get a little emotional because of all that I have had to overcome. I've struggled financially, emotionally, academically, spiritually, and in more ways than I can possibly name. Every single mountain I've had to climb has always led me a beautiful peak where I can witness the loveliness of life. 

I am determined to live.

There is no way I will let the faults of this world deter me from living. 

I have learned so much about myself. I have achieved things I never thought I could. And I have failed myself when I least expected it. Regardless, I've kept fighting. 


I only wish I could share my courage with those who lost theirs.


As I grow older, I have learned how fragile life really is. All around me people are dropping dead within the blink of an eye. In a tick of a second-hand, a life passes by us and on the next world. And we sit here, us oblivious beings, completely unaware. 


I am determined to live.

So I stand here not waiting for life. I am now realizing, life is only waiting for me. And at this point, there's no reason to test its patience. I will plunge into its wonders and embrace all that it has to offer.

Fight The Cold

Poetry... Written Thursday, November 10, 2011 at 11:07a.m.

Today, I don't want to go inside. 

I want to mingle in the leaves, the wind that blows the trees,

Feel my hair graze against my face,

Smell the sweetness that entices my taste.

Today, I don't want to go inside.

I want to stare at the blue sky.

Watch the mountains' colors etch the horizon.

I want to feel the sun's warmth as it blankets my brown skin.

Feel the happiness it ignites within.

Today, I don't want to go inside.

Inside is where my thoughts are surpressed.

Where I have to focus on, "what's next?" 

Inside is where the darkness is.

Where my love and joy have to be dismissed.

Today, I don't want to go inside.

So, I'll just close my eyes as I walk through the doors.

I'll remember the love that the outside gave me.

And as I sit in my inside seat,

I'll remember what it felt like to be outside...

...and free.

-R. 

DON'T BE TOO LATE 

I just read an article and watched a video in the Huffington Post that revealed that 10 year-old, Illinois CHILD killed herself after being bullied.


BULLIED. BULLIED.  BULLIED. 


This is absolutely unacceptable. To be so oblivious to the power that WORDS can have! To be completely immune to the word, bully. These simple words seem to be heard all too often, creating a sense of understanding that is flawed and inaccurate. 


When people think of a "bully" they often think of a kid who is taller and bigger than all the other kids, who goes around giving other kids wedgies and takes their lunch money. 


They don't think of the jealous, undisciplined child who is raging inside with jealousy and hate. Who preys on the happiness of others to build up their own self-worth. And who only sees the intimidation and not the growing depression and sadness that their victim becomes emerged in. They don't see. 


As a survivor of years of bullying, I know how hard it can be. I know that words are more than simply words. The tongue is a lethal weapon that goes underestimated. 


It can cause more pain than ever imagined. It can cloud the thoughts of the sane. Those thoughts, then, become crazed--enraged. 


Now, these thoughts of the victims are blazing with the fire of either retaliation or complete submission. Instead of fighting, they chose flight. They chose to release their soul in the night.


Along with child innocence comes ignorance. Ignorance of how to IGNORE. Ignorance of how to OVERCOME. Ignorance of the lives of OTHERS. 


This is unacceptable. A life should never be cut short at the hand of oneself. 


Never. 


Read the full article here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/11/14/ashlynn-conner-suicide-fa_n_1092521.html?ncid=edlinkusaolp00000003

BLACK at the UA part 4, Numbers Talk--How far have we really come? (ALSO TITLED: University In Middle of The Diversity Pack)

Published on uatrav.com October 6, 2011.

This year’s bomb.com sorority recruitment numbers went through the roof. All eight chapters of the National Panhellenic Council met or exceeded recruitment quota, 131 girls, which added up to be 1,079 new girls who have been accepted to join Greek Life.  Putting this statistic against that of the number of African Americans enrolled at the UA it is shockingly and kind-of disturbingly close.

It isn’t a surprise that African Americans make up a small percentage of the UA, but it is surprising that this number has not changed very much during the last 12 years.

In 1998, there were only 880 African Americans on campus. By the fall 2010, the number had only increased to 1,128. That’s a difference of only 224 people. I bet this is less than the graduating high school classes of many UA students.

According to the an article in the Arkansas Newswire, there should be about a 25 percent increase since last fall. Well, the numbers are in, and 25 percent will have to remain a hopeful goal. The reality is enrollment for African American undergraduate students stands at a mere 1,128 in the Fall 2010 semester, and 1,246 for the Fall 2011. This makes the real increase 118 students, or less than 11 percent.

To put this into perspective, 14,924 students who enrolled in undergraduate courses this fall were white.

These numbers are talking, and they are saying a lot.

With an African American president, Financial Aid, diversity scholarships and popular collegiate athletic sports such as basketball and football being comprised of many African Americans, what’s the deal? And what can be done to get these numbers higher?

Well, our fabulous university has a place called, the Office of Diversity Affairs that caters to this very issue. It is a haven for information about how students can get involved and jump on the “diversity bandwagon.”

The College Access Initiative is a program that focuses on helping high school students improve their ACT scores. Students get the opportunity to come to the UA, take practice tests all the while getting a feel for college life.

In addition to this, there is the Razorback Bridge Program where UA students travel to areas across the state, helping high schools students prepare for college. Particularly those who are lacking the resources to do it themselves.

High school students can also apply to visit our awesome campus through the CAI program or the various other programs the UA offers such as Upward Bound, Diversity Impact and Talent Search.

These programs would not be able to operate if it weren’t for the hard working UA students putting the time and effort to help others achieve their goal of attending college.

Wouldn’t you want the UA to be the “it” school for getting a well-rounded and diverse education?

I would. And there are other flagship schools that are well on their way to achieving this goal.

Ole Miss is hanging in at 16.3 percent of their student population being African America and rolling in at a close second is the University of Alabama with 12.1 percent.

With other universities beating us in diversity and the fact that our enrollment has increased significantly, says a lot in terms of how far we still have yet to come in achieving a more diverse student and faculty population.

Frankly, I’m not the one to settle for second place, and being apart of Arkansas’ number one university has taught me that.

So, can we please get together and do better? Can we step up as students and fellow Hogs to help build a university moving forward in education, diversity and success?

Yep, I think we can.

Wouldn't You Like To Know

This piece was written about how fighting for a relationship can be a lost cause and the detrimental effects it can have on a  young woman's life and self-esteem. Sometimes love is worth fighting for, but other times it's simply mistaken for love and isn't worth fighting for at all.

Written Wednesday, February 3, 2011 at 9:18pm, it's not a happy one. But it's a real one.

 ICE 

When you lose touch with what's real,

You lose touch with what's right.

You start settling for less.

And the pain lingers at night.

You cry and you brace yourself,

For you can feel the unhappiness.

Your thoughts racing with embarrassment,

For you can't understand where your standards went.

My heart weeps,

For love it only needs.

Abandonment is its enemy,

I feel the cold as it begins to freeze.

Damn my stupidity,

My will to be a good woman.

Damn this life I've been cursed to live.

I'm begging for something better,

What I say I deserve.

But mistakes are only yelling,

"You get what you've earned." 

-R. 

Still Coping With It

Has something ever happened to you that you never thought could happen? Have you ever daydreamed a thought so bad, it made you cry? What's worse is when that thought becomes reality. And you're stuck with no choice but to accept it and deal with it.

I never thought that I'd be missing someone in my life that had been there since I was 12 years old. When I met her, it was like I met my other half. She was the Bonnie to my Clyde. She was the Ivory to my Ebony. My partner in crime...for life. "BFF" wasn't a lie that we told ourselves to make us feel better, we knew it was nothing but truth. We knew that nothing or no one could tear us apart. 

At least, that is what I thought. 

But now, I'm realizing maybe it was only me who was so sure of this friendship. Maybe it was my trust in her that made me so confident that this thing was never going to go wrong. That even despite the bumps, the boys, the rumors, and the distance, we would never let each other go. But I was so very wrong. 

Over the years our bond had been tested. But in my eyes, it only made us stronger. Unfortunately, I found that in her's, it only made us weaker. And yes, there were things that I ignored and purposefully avoided in order to keep things peachy keen simply because my life was complicated enough without putting pressure on her...

But wait, isn't that what friends are for? Aren't friends supposed to be fortresses of hope and salvation that will always love you and never judge you? Again, that's what I thought. At least that's what I always tried to do. No matter the event or problem. No matter how angry I was at her, I NEVER wanted to point a finger because she was MY best friend...one who could do no wrong in my eyes. 

But she did. And so did I. We weren't perfect. Life isn't perfect. And I found at 22, that friends don't last forever. Sometimes they only last for 10 years...

-R. 

Run

She said, "I smelled you today. I've thought I have heard you, seen you.. but today.. I thought I smelled you." 

These words so simple yet so intensely imprinting. When speaking of a soul released and a body 6 ft beneath, you realize that death isn't a far away place. 

It's simply waiting around the corner and watching us while we sleep. 

The reaper--collector of souls, has us all in a fearful frenzy about death. Should we be scared of dying? No. We should only be scared of not living.

Don't fear the inevitable. It only wastes away our precious and limited time.  

And although we can manipulate time we can't make it heed our wants. 

So don't die while breathing and staring at the sky... try to live. 


Close your eyes, take death for a ride, while you embrace the time that enables your life. 

-R. 

Girl, Misunderstood

So many lessons to be learned. So many mistakes to be made. A girl lives everyday with the fear of being betrayed. In an era where a woman's worth has been lessened to that of hoes, thirsty gold diggers, and crazy, psychotic baby mama's, these perspectives have greatly affected how a woman lives and of course, loves.

Hoe. This word is used in many different contexts--whether comedic or not, we all know what it means. Social media has expanded the capabilites of bitter and angry women and men alike to express their opinions in the most public and humiliating ways. From hoe lists, tagged statuses and photos,subtweets, anonymous and hacked Facebook and Twitter accounts, it's like no one is safe. Even the innocent. Even the men who've worked so hard to make sure that they aren't labeled "just another nigga" or the women who've done the same to remain free of the label: "just another hoe."

And in spite of these things, the culture of our generation only perpetuates the strength of the word "hoe" and what it can do to one's reputation.

We all learn as growing adults that there will always be someone trying to bring us down. But there is a line that must never be crossed. Unfortunately, it seems like that line fades with every passing day.

"Thirsty hoes." 

Although there are women who have the shallow intentions of only dating/marrying/having sex with a guy who has money or has a certain social status (athlete, musician, etc.) this isn't always the case. Women who prefer to date successful men simply want the security of being taken care of.

And because the chivalry, love, respect, and admiration for women has dimished significantly, women have resorted to gaining a more detatched and shallow way of thinking. Women have now learned how to date and "hook-up" without forming any feelings or emotions. Just like men have used women for sex, women are now using men for money. Women understand that many men won't love them unconditionally the way they feel like they deserve or want to be loved. So, they've resorted to using men for money and resources.

I feel that this thirst is simply a facade. A last resort to avoid getting too involved which usually leads to getting heartbroken. The thirst is really for love, acceptance, and appreciation. If you failed to feel any of these things, you'd be a little thirsty too.

I've written angry poems and posts dedicated to the experiences that, unfortunately, most girls, including myself, must endure in order to grow stronger and more wise and this is not one of them. It's just a rant, just an opinion of a girl who has grown into a woman and refuses to sit back and say or do nothing.

-R.

It All Began With An Apple

God.
Ironically all-knowing.
Patient. Kind. Mind-blowing.

Fearless yet One we should fear.
A listener, but He is hard to hear.

He whispers his love in the windy breeze,
The green in the leaves of the trees,
The ocean's tide that has taken lives,
The heartbeats of newborns,
And last breaths of the dying.

The blood of His only Son ran rampant.
The hearts of His martyrs remain broken.
But their faith, never laxed.
For His words have yet to fail.
But some wait for the proof of "I'll be back."

He said, "In a blink of an eye..."
Chills just ran up my spine.
The Book didn't end with a goodbye.
So you decide...
What's really life?

LIFE. DEATH.
BLOOD. BREATH.
God.


You decide...


-R.

Perfection at a Loss

You know that feeling you get when you realize you're wrong and your stomach feels as if it has been beaten for hours on end with a baseball bat?

Or how about the feeling of potential failure? The feeling of complete uncertainty that puts you in the most vulnerable state of mind. You can feel every pulsation your heart makes as blood flows rapidly through your veins.

I have this feeling every time I open my eyes in the morning. Everyday I think to myself, "okay, what's next?"

I have grown to be more optimistic. But my new-found optimism has only caused more damage than good. My willingness to hold one to a higher standard or take the time to understand someone and their ways have only led to greater disappointment.

There is a reason why I have standards for myself, my friends, and the one that waits for me. I can never willingly let myself feel the anger, disgust, and hatred that I have felt so many times before as my heart has been gnawed away by the demons of lost love.

My heart is wrapped in a shroud. It is dead. It has been for so long. It is cold. Completely numb. I am only waiting for you to resurrect it. Not you...but, you. Yes...you.

I have been battling within my mind if this is even right. Am I just a hopeless, lost soul roaming around in an abysmal pit of flaws. Or am I just being shown that before I can rise, I will have to fall?

So I leave the way I came: equally confused yet determined to fix the laws that dictate my flaws. Miracles can happen, right? So there goes my mind, ticking away like the second hand of a clock, so eager to reach the paradise of 12, where all the hard work will be appreciated and the minute hand will budge, just slightly, as a gentle gesture of thanks.

-R.

Black at the UA- Part 1, The OTHER 5 Percent

THIS WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE ARKANSAS TRAVELER on February 8, 2011.

I am an African American woman and a student at the UA. I couldn’t be more proud to be a Razorback and I imagine the rest of the student body feels the same.

However, with Black History Month in full force, I can’t help but acknowledge the progress we have yet to make as a campus and as a community.

According to the UA’s Fall 2010 Enrollment Report, only 5.3 percent of enrolled students at the university are African Americans — this is about 1,128 people, a small number compared to the 78.5 percent of Caucasians.

For me, these striking statistics give the word “minority” a whole new meaning.

Ron Jones, a close friend and fellow African American, wasn’t planning on going to college at the UA until he visited the university and fell in love with the campus.

Despite Jones’ excitement about being a Razorback, he has expressed a desire for a more unified student body. He says that students are always “sectional” especially at large events or places like the dining hall.

This is understandable in that people usually feel most comfortable when surrounded by others who are like themselves. However, I couldn’t help but agree when Jones said, “A primary goal of higher education is to prepare you for society, which can be less than comfortable.”

Eating lunch at Brough Commons exposes the very segregation Jones hopes will cease in the near future. Greeks sit with greeks. The Asian exchange students sit with other Asian exchange students.

These days, we don’t need to be told to sit with our own because we do it ourselves. But when one is black at a predominately white institution, self-segregation becomes a more sensitive issue — and all students are guilty of it.

In regard to classroom diversity, I have often been the only black person in many of my classes. This creates an interesting dynamic because people pay attention when I talk. My classmates usually expect me to sound differently — more “ethnic.” So I love surprising others with my great diction and grammar.

Another friend, Alice McMillan, vented to me about similar experiences at the university.

“Being black at the UA is definitely a challenge,” she said. “You get tested. The way you carry yourself, your demeanor and the way you respond to ignorance are things that you have to be prepared to handle.”

It’s a battle every day to work harder than the person next to you because being black means you have to challenge the stereotypes.

McMillan said it best: “I feel obligated to excel in class because I can’t have people thinking that they’re better than me just because I’m the black girl with the big lips and thick, curly hair who is just here because she lucked out and got some scholarship for just being black and not really college material.”

This is a perspective that many African Americans share. No one wants to feel singled out or different from the person sitting next to him or her, but the truth is that we are all different. It’s up to our generation to embrace our differences and move forward.

The racial divide on campus is also reflected throughout Fayetteville.

The lack of stylists, entertainment and clothing that relate to the black community cannot be ignored. Besides the University Program’s headliner concerts and the Interfraternity Council’s (IFC) “Row Week,” there’s a lack of entertainment featuring black artists.

Having a broader range of entertainers on and around campus, allows people to become more accustomed to different cultures. We must seek to understand and accept one another before we can advance to the next level as a society.

So in the spirit of Black History Month, I encourage everyone to reach out to people who are different from you and embrace what they have to offer. You might be surprised what you find.

Black at the UA, PART 2: Greek Life

Printed in the March 9, 2011 issue of the Arkansas Traveler

Black at the UA: Greek Life

When people on campus hear the term “Greek” they often think of Sperry-wearing frat guys chugging beer or a plethora of peppy sorority girls chanting during roll-call at pep rallies. But there’s an additional stereotype — the fancy jacket-wearing black Greeks who make weird noises and step all the time.

Although there are reasons these stereotypes exist, there is more to Greek life than many students might think, especially in terms of black, Greek lettered organizations.

It’s time to set the record straight.

Under the umbrella of Greek life there are three separate councils: Interfraternity Council, consisting of mostly white males, National Panhellenic Council, consisting of mainly white females and the National Pan-Hellenic Council, which consists of mostly black males and females.

NPHC is made up of nine different fraternities and sororities that have existed over 100 years. They all are founded on the principles of scholarship, camaraderie and service to mankind. But each is unique in its own way.

While NPHC, NPC and IFC should all be seen as equals, I can’t help but notice that there is a division between the councils.

NPHC obviously stands out due to the race factor. But here at the UA there is even greater a divide because of the overbearing presence of NPC and IFC, with their colossal houses, huge recruitment groups and sheer number of members.

With that said, NPHC’s process of admitting members is also done differently from IFC and NPC. It’s more intimate and time consuming.

For example, NPC girls have a week to “rush” houses — meaning girls visit and later pick the houses (or sororities) they want to be a part of. Hopefully the house will pick them back, but there’s no guarantee.

With NPHC, membership intake is done over a prolonged period of time. Instead of them choosing you, you chose them. If accepted, your loyalty remains with that particular organization and potential members don’t try out every sorority or fraternity to see which one works best for him or her.

A friend once told me about her roommate being a member of Chi-Omega and how frivolous the whole process seemed to her. She said, “how do you get to know someone after a week?” Well, you don’t.

I’ve asked many of my own friends who are a part of NPC if they knew most of their pledge class. Typically, they don’t. There are simply too many people to know everyone.

When asked who founded their organization and where it was founded, the answer is usually a shrug or an “I forgot.”

As a member of an NPHC organization, I can say that this is simply not the case for me or for most others. How can you represent something that you don’t know the history of?

All of these differences have shaped NPHC’s underlying reputation as “the other Greeks.”

NPHC chose to do things differently. For members of these nine organizations “going Greek” is not just a college thing, it’s a lifetime commitment that one keeps at the forefront of his or her life.

Members are encouraged to stay active in graduate chapters after leaving their collegiate institutions. These graduate chapters help govern undergraduate chapters but remain completely independent of them.

Philanthropy, a strong sisterhood and brotherhood, quality membership and a sense of pride and knowledge of the Greek organization is what makes one truly effective and purposeful.

I want to encourage those of you who don’t understand what black Greek life is all about to take a closer look. Go to the national websites or ask a member. They will be more than happy to give you some insight into what it’s all about.

So UA students, it isn’t the size of the house that should determine the value of a Greek organization or council to its community. It’s the quality, not quantity of its members that make the organization great and worthwhile.

Daily

Like I've said before,
It's the rhythm of the core;
Earth re-instating my purpose and presence.

I find every day to be a battle.
As the fight between my heart and my mind rages endlessly.

How can one ever be sure of happiness?
Is it constituted by constant laughter?
Brought on by the company you keep?
Or is it a familiar foe that one ever truly meets?

A score and two years has passed,
And I feel as though I am still struggling to last.
My existence tastes so bittersweet.
I am so proud. But complete optimism somehow escapes me.

It's been too long since I felt like living for love was worthwhile.
My emotions are trapped in the ether;
Desperately waiting for them to be captured by one worthy.

The air turns cold and thin as I suffer within.

Loveless and lonely.
Heartless and ruined.
I yell into the night,
Awaiting a response from the one who is waiting for me.

-R.