The following discusses a night HD had with his cousin and her friends recently behind his mom's house last month.
It was a sight I never thought I'd see. There sat my go-getter cousin and her friend, passing the longest blunt my mind had ever seen. Right next to me, sat Naiomi, a teenage mass of a darker Diana Ross lookalike with her gigantic weave, pink pants, and blue toenails. One would be forgiven for assuming her an extra from the remix video for “Single Ladies.”
Eventually, the green passed my straight-edge self on its way to Naiomi's underage lips.
The stairs we were chilling on behind my mom's house gave us a break from the heat and schizophrenic politics going on inside. Exactly why the three had ventured here earlier in the evening.
Curious me followed minutes later. After all, one can only stand hearing reactionary shit like, “The Republicans are so evil; we have to make sure the Democrats win in November” from 50-something African Christian Conservatives for so long before brain aneurysm sets in.
With her short dreads and slightly long, mocha-colored face, coupled with a red European soccer jersey, black shorts and shell toes, Nancy defined Hipster Chic to me (a great irony, given out family's derision of that species). Her friend's dark mascara, baggy jeans, flannel shirt and black-brimmed hat, all superimposed onto a tall, wiry Hershey chocolate shaded body, forced me to state the following: “You are so giving off a Janelle Monae vibe now.”
A comment she was flattered by. Seconds later, I looked at my cousin and Monae's apparent doppelganger, huddled up and chilling, and thought to myself,“You know, this would've made a standard issue East Coast Hip-Hop album cover back during the 90s.”
Seeing cousin “NaNa”, the same little girl I virtually grew up with, toking on Sativa strains behind her father's sister's house, made my night. In a family as knowledgeable about weed's benefits as a Newscorp reporter, someone broke from the pack. Nancy was already setting precedents as a lesbian in this clan. I can relate, as the only Atheist within it.
This is the same girl who po'wned at Tony Hawk's Pro Skater back in the 2000s, not to mention, always held a headstrong, tomboyish attitude. The nice set of school sports trophies in her possession only confirm that (The sexism I espouse here can hopefully be forgiven). Why shouldn't I expect her to be one of the other alternatives in the family?
But that was the extent of her standing out. Nancy had, unfortunately, also developed a petty bourgeois attitude since we last saw each other.
Such was evidenced by a discussion we'd had 30 minutes earlier.' She'd brought up that controversial Dame Dash Breakfast Club interview where he bragged about being a “boss” and said workers have “no pride in themselves.”
“Dame is such a boss!” she reiterated.
“Yeah, about that interview,” I responded. “Don't come at me with that 'boss' shit when you have all these issues with the IRS and your kids hating you on social media,” referencing Dash's recent indiscretions.
“What does it matter what mistakes he's made?” she asked back. “He's still making boss moves.”
“Yeah, by shitting on workers. He said regular people who go to work have no pride in themselves.”
“He was taken out of context,” she said. “By regular he didn't mean black people.”
“Aw, that's that black capitalism,” I bemoaned, as we headed back up the stairs to the party.
“Black capitalism is the key to ending white supremacy,” she retorted.
Sigh. The typical argument from some black folks about how to end racism. Fight the system that fosters racist and sexist ideas by creating out own version-with all that racism and sexism still included!
Sadly, that wasn't the only way Nancy had changed. Somehow during out talks that night, Ice-T was brought up. “There's so many things wrong with him, including his white wife.”
My ears perked up. “What's wrong with him having a white wife?'
“Too much to discuss right now.” I remember Nancy spraying this anti-White attitude a few years back, when she flat out admitted to me she hated white people. That night behind mom's house with weed and music talk, she shared that a favorite thing of hers to do was make white people feel uncomfortable around her.
Double sigh. Still, Nancy was-and-remains-an intellect and a great talk. The fumes, mixed with the avant gardish-looking ladies, made for a night not soon to forget.