Wednesday, May 29, 1996
Out of the blur memorable people, experiences emerge
At last, I can see the daylight. After almost four years of
monotonous studying, laboring, midterms and finals, the end is
near. On June 15 I am scheduled to walk out of this university with
a Bachelor of Arts degree in anthropology. I don’t know what I’m
going to do with a degree in anthro, except go to graduate school
in something else. Anyway, I’m nearing the completion of my tenure
here at UCLA, and I’m going to miss this school greatly.
It seemed like before I entered UCLA, I lived my whole life for
these moments. From kindergarten to 12th grade, everything was
geared toward "going to college." I was always told that good
grades now meant a good college later. When entering oratorical
contests and competing in different writing programs, I was told,
"This will look good when you apply for college." College was to be
the culmination of my hard work and determination. College was to
be the fruition of my efforts, the subject of my dreams. But unless
I could be a Bruin, I didn’t want to go to college.
I always knew I was a Bruin. I can remember watching UCLA
compete in various bowl games as I grew up. I felt my bruinship so
deep down in my soul that I only applied to one university … this
one. If I didn’t make it here, I was on my way to Santa Monica
College. Thankfully, history will not have to tell a different
story. I was accepted here. My first and only choice.
But as I look back on my four years here, I can’t really even
say I remember too much of this experience. These four years seem
to be nothing but a blur. But some things do and always will stand
out.
Firstly, I remember when Sister Souljah came and spoke during
the African Student Union Orientation in 1992. That was one of the
greatest speeches I had ever heard. I can remember her words as she
challenged my fellow students and me to strive toward excellence.
My first real impression of UCLA was formed by that event. As I sat
surrounded by hundreds of my people, I felt a genuine hope and
happiness about this school. I was encouraged, because of that
event, to join the African Student Union, write for Nommo (the
African people’s newsmagazine), and become actively involved in
campus issues. Although UCLA never lived up to the promise provided
by that event, Sister Souljah and the African Student Union made me
proud I was a Bruin.
I remember something else that happened while I was a freshman.
Yes, it was the hunger strike staged by those Chicana/o students
who were fighting for a Chicana/o studies department. I was amazed
at the solidarity that was expressed by UCLA minority students
across the campus. The red armband became a symbol of strength and
love that united all races. African Americans, Chicanas/os, Asians
and even whites participated by fasting at least one or two days
for the cause. The grass in front of Schoenberg Hall where the
Chicana/o students lived as they fasted became the headquarters,
and rallies were held almost every day. News cameras and
helicopters were a fixture here, as the whole nation listened to
the cries of a few determined Chicana/o students. As they rolled up
to the mikes in wheelchairs, gaunt and thin, to speak on behalf of
their cause, I can remember tears welling up in my eyes. What an
impression they made.
I also remember the talent showcase that was held in Royce Hall
during my first year. Besides the fact that that was the only event
I’ve ever been to in Royce, that was also one of the greatest
talent shows I’ve ever seen. That April 1993, I remember sitting
with my friend Dean in the very front row, listening to
Groovelicious playing some Sly and the Family Stone. I’ll never
forget how my friend Nikki stole a Cross Colors banner that night
after one of the dancers left it on the ground. Of course, now I’d
say, "Why would anyone want a Cross Colors banner?" But remember,
Cross Color gear wasn’t played out yet.
After I started my second year, I remember making a decision
that would change my life immeasurably. I joined the UCLA Gospel
Choir. I count that as one of the wisest decisions I made here.
Besides the fact that we sang at different colleges, churches,
functions and programs across L.A. County, I met some of my best
friends through the choir. Moreover, my friendships with others
grew stronger because we bonded through fellowship and singing.
Without the choir (If it weren’t for the choir), Courtney, Chamara,
Liz, Latonia, Badia, Dina and I wouldn’t have become as close as we
are. But, even better, I was paid an advance of $1,000 for placing
a song on UCLA’s debut gospel album. Now do you see why it was one
of the wisest decisions I made?
My second year was also the year I met Malinda. We quickly
became best friends, and then she became my first real girlfriend.
Although we went through a lot, I had some of the most fun I’ve
ever had with her. One example was at the African Student Union
picnic which was held in May of 1994 at Mar Vista Park. We played
double Dutch, swung on the swings and threw water balloons at
everybody. You can’t pay for memories like those.
Remember I told you about the talent showcase in Royce? Well I
was in it my second and third years here … except it was in
Ackerman Grand Ballroom. And this year I’ll be in it again with the
UCLA Gospel Choir. The first year I appeared with Courtney and
Chamara. I was the music director, playing the keyboards and
handling the musical and some vocal arrangements. The next year, I
appeared with Four Example, which contained the best singers UCLA’s
campus will ever hear. Besides Chamara, the other three women were
background singers for C&C the previous year. Until you’ve
heard Chamara, Badia, Liz and my sister sing together, you haven’t
heard no singing. We’ll probably plan a reunion, so be on the
lookout.
Well, I’m running out of space, so I must give love to
Ethnomusicology 91P which I’ve taken the spring quarter of every
year I’ve been here. This class, which is composed of about 60
students who sing African-American spirituals and gospel music,
provided me with some of my most enjoyable times. Dr. Dje Dje and
Kumasi Browne have given me four years of pain and joy. Although
I’ve mostly gotten in trouble by talking too much in this class,
I’ve learned a lot about the music which my forefathers sang while
enduring terrible oppression. I’m going to miss this class, and,
believe it or not, I’m going to miss these teachers, too.
Lastly, writing for the Bruin since spring of 1995 has been a
beautiful experience. I encourage anyone who remotely adores
writing and having your opinions heard to apply. I promise, you
will not be disappointed. Viewpoint has made me really think about
the way I perceive not only this campus, but the world as a whole.
My real education came from the responses and comments my fellow
students gave me regarding my columns, and for this I’m grateful.
Who knows, I’ll probably try to keep on writing (unless they get
tired of me and kick me out of the section).
Well, some things I never had a chance to mention, like seeing
J. Spencer (a virtuoso on the soprano sax) perform; soap operas and
talk shows in the Coop; Black Wednesdays on the stairs (not too
many of you new black folks know about that), now called Wednesdays
on the walk; basketball at Dykstra and free dinners in Sproul (you
just have to know the right people). Some other things I won’t
remember, like ugly old Towell, all this stupid construction and
those terrible noon rock concerts.
But if there’s one thing I’ll take from UCLA and cherish, it’s
the fact that I had a chance to go to college with my sister,
Malaika, who I love more than anybody in the world (besides my
parents, of course). We’re graduating at the same time, and I count
it a privilege and a blessing to be able to walk the stage with
her. I love you, Malaika. I don’t know what’s next, but whatever it
is, we’ll face it together. Peace.
Howard is a fourth-year anthropology student. This is his last
column.