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.