We gon’ be alright.
It’s a motto. A testament. Maybe even a lifestyle.
It’s also a line from the song that, for me, transformed an office into a haven, a community into a family, fear into hope, pain into strength. It’s the epitome of the strength and resilience that explain my first year at CSU.
It’s the transformation of my identity; my fresh start; my renaissance.
I’ve been trying to sum up the past nine months from me. The beginning of a new journey called college, stepping into new, extremely unfamiliar spaces, stripping my identity down and rebuilding it, strengthening it, solidifying it. How do I sum it up? Well, I don’t, not really. But I’ve been looking for those things that can capture this first step into a new world. I’ve been looking for that something, that burned into my heart, stuck with me, kept resurfacing in different ways. Then I found it. It was a question—a Real Talk discussion topic—that really resonated with me: what does black love mean to you? And that captures the essence of year one.
Of course, now, I can’t articulate it as well as I would like. Here’s what I got:
- Raising a child in the only way known: with an extra shield of armor, intense pride and fiery passion, yet still under a blanket of shielding and protection
- The love passed down generations, taught through actions, instilled in the very being, sewn into the soul
- The countless chances, unending forgiveness, unconditional attempt to understand
- The reminder that the external standards are always too high, and you're still okay if you don't meet them
- Providing and finding a space to be heard without expectations of elaboration or perfection
- The embrace of a stranger that carries the weight of the world, and for even just a moment makes you realize that it’s going to be okay
- A silence that captures exactly what must be said
"It's good to see you" and "I'm glad your here" elicit a new depth of gratitude that we made it one more day
- That universal head nod – “I may not know you, but I know”
- In actions, in words, in shared feelings, shared moments, shared spaces
Pain, like joy, is shared
Struggle, like triumph, is shared
- “I love you” manifests itself in more than a physical way, more than any level of physical or emotional intimacy can ever demonstrate
- The intangible but pervasive power of love
Fear
Hope
Faith
Love.
Black love isn’t distinct from love as we know it (assuming we know what love is—not sure that I do, not completely). It’s an enhancement. It’s the unspoken but understood connection that we must hold on to one another, lift each other up, be in that light at the end of the tunnel (no, it’s not a train). It’s this additional piece of love that has nothing to do with the nature of the relationship; it’s there, unconditionally. It’s in the day-old friendships and lifelong relationships.
It’s an extra layer of strength that we shouldn’t have to load onto our shoulders, yet we do. But it’s a chance to share that load, to find someone that’ll get it.
It’s having someone let you know that “I got you” and we gon’ be alright, without ever saying a word.
More than anything, Black Love is what kept me going and got me through.
Year One—done.
