How the desire to belong can kill you Double Consciousness part II

While watching a documentary involving inner-city youth and musicians I spotted something very interesting. I came across a young teen sporting a shirt with a particular phrase. Trapped in crime. It was a shirt that detailed the harsh realities of most black youth growing up in the hood. I didn’t choose “the life” “the life” chose me.

A statement that may anger some. But when and if you do your research it is all too true. It’s like if you can’t beat em in this instance beat meaning avoid then you mind as well join em in order to prolong your life in a sense.

Perhaps if we seek “protection” and join forces then we will be “spared” or “safe” But in fact by joining one gang or sect you’re now seen as the enemy in the eyes of the others. So is joining this gang even beneficial at all? Does it really “protect” you?

Fear is what fuels the rise in gang recruitment. Sometimes I wonder if the black race is cursed. 

Whenever I watched productions on gang violence there was always a common theme. That is when those affected by the crimes were asked what needed to be done to prevent and or solve the issues. It was always stressed that youth had nothing to do. Their boredom played a huge role in their involvement with gangs, crime etc. The residents would always cry out for programs to be introduced into their community. In an attempt to detour the youth from their involvement with gangs.


Luckily for the Canarsie community we had a program designed exactly for that purpose.
Bildersee Beacon aimed to act as a positive space for youth. There was a place that served as a safe haven for me and many other youth.

It was there that I found my passions and was able to perfect my craft.
While other youth were mothered and fathered by the streets I had a friend, sibling, and parent in Beacon. In Beacon I found a mentor. I began attending Beacon from ages 8- around 13ish. I must say that my participation in their program has contributed greatly in shaping who I am today.


We are so very vulnerable and impressionable during these stages that we must be surrounded by positivity in order to help aid our thinking and shape us. It's during these ages that we desperately search for a sense of belonging. Our values and morals aren't really solidified yet. Our desires are basic yet complex.

The main one:

#1: A sense of belonging. Someone to relate to. (Bonding, relationships)
This is usually where youth belonging to gangs and cliques say within the gang they found the parents they never had & were seeking. "A substitute family"

I've seen so many youth succumb to violence in Canarsie, my former hometown. Once a family oriented place. So in 2016 March when I randomly stumbled upon a news article about a college basketball star's death I was enraged. Automatically, I made the assumption that he had been murdered in Canarsie as a result of gang violence. Stemming from either being an innocent bystander or a direct attack due to jealousy over his success.

They've got another one I thought. I cursed to the heavens and screamed and ranted about how much I hated these barbaric animals. I yelled that after advancing out of such a town he should've never returned to such a place. I called his imaginary gang involved murders that I had created in my mind so many names. Screamed that they were ruining the race. I harbored so much hatred. My heart ached, I wanted revenge.

That was my immediate reaction. However, upon reading the entire article I learned that the details I had imagined couldn't have been farther from the truth or were they?

My friend "B" was one of the highlights of my childhood. I was three years older than him but still he behaved like a little man. I can still remember how he would mingle with all the older girls making them laugh and giggle. Even as a child he was so charismatic, so funny, debonair, charming.

He was always the life of the party. Dancehall was a big part of our community being highly populated by Caribbeans. Him and I would spend hours practicing our moves. Elephant Man, Sean Paul and many others of the time. They were our idols. Although, we were children we spent hours perfecting our craft. What may seem complex to outsiders came natural for us. As offsping of Caribbean parents it was embedded in our blood. Taught to move our waists from young.

I can still remember the way we would perform everywhere, bringing in a large crowd. It was funny cause it wasn't even our intent to perform. We would just hear music and it would awaken a fire within us. It felt like a force possessing us for a moment. Where spirits of some sort were communicating a message through our bodies. Like in that moment we shared our bodies with the ancestors.

I can still hear Elephant's voice saying things like "Scoobay & Keeping it jiggy" Prompting us to "Get jiggy", "Summer bounce" the works. It was around 2004. Our little bodies didn't need choreography it was so second nature to us. Dancehall raised us. I along with him and M were so dedicated to our dancing. It was through this dancing that our paths crossed. I can remember a particular incident in a classroom. One I will never forget. It was dark and we had the older teenagers with us. We were being bad. The older girls aged 13 and up considered us 8-11 year olds their children.

My "mother" knew I could dance and next thing you knew we were having a party. There was a board and me and "B" went behind the board as our "parents" cheered us on saying "wine, wine" "dub" him. lol. Dub being a term for a girl dancing on a guys body.

He was my first "dub" lol. From then on we would dance with each other not so much in that manner but in these little battles. I being a talented female dancer would dance in unison with him and M. It was cool to see the unity yet contrast in our dancing styles.

B was so social, so popular. I share so many memories with him. Music fueled us, uplifted us, made us live. Bildersee hosted a number of events every kid would flock to including the annual Haunted house walkthrough. They'd go all out with fog, ghosts and all. We would all dance in unison again. "Givin dem a run" "Parachute" "Ova ya head" and our favorite "Pon di river, pon di bank." lol
Those were really the days. Elephant man thank you for making my childhood gold. XD :)


Over the years B and I parted ways as I began Jr.high and high school. But that never stopped me from recalling the memories he and I shared. I thought about him so much but was so busy that I never bothered to get his contact information and connect with him. Which is why when he died I felt so guilty. All I could think of was that I could've prevented his death had we'd been friends cause he would've been with me and avoided encountering those who murdered him.

B apparently was doing extremely well for himself. He was a college athlete featured on television, well respected by his university, peers, community etc. He was so famous, gotten so much publicity yet I still never heard of any of this. It wasn't until his death. I hated myself for losing touch.
I still don't forgive myself.

Once I had read the name I instantly remembered and felt like I was dead inside. I cried and cried. It felt like my soul had been ripped out. Like my childhood died right along with him. So much potential wasted. He was about to graduate with his baccalaureate and was in his last semester. I couldn't understand why.

Things only got worse as I learned the details. B had been trying to join a fraternity and wound up killed by the hazing ceremony and ritual. I was shocked and confused. I only thought that caucasians took fraternities and sororities so serious. I was wrong. Apparently he was made to drink a concoction along with large amounts of alcohol and who knows what else which resulted in his death.

Those involved refuse to come forward, I read something about him vomiting and being unconscious. I thought to myself who could see him seizing, convulsing and vomiting and run away after it was them who pressured him into this. His blood is on their hands. He was fighting to belong to them and died in the process.

I was saying to myself that maybe his death was inevitable. Perhaps, he may have died by being gunned down in Canarsie as an innocent by stander while visiting from college. Or had he not gone to college he too like his brother M would have been recruited into a gang and murdered in retaliation. Was his fate to die?

I was thinking his college education and efforts went in vain because essentially he was a gang member. This group were the thugs of college. Are they no better? No they're not. Maybe he didn't actually escape the violence of Canarsie because it followed him to college just in a different sense. He still was victimized. He still didn't feel content with himself enough that he searched for a sense of belonging. Maybe he felt alone in college and was looking for guidance. Maybe he's no different from the misguided gang members from our area. It just sucks cause he shared a similar fate with others gunned down in Canarsie except his accomplishments died with him.

On that note I'm signing off.
B I will never forget you.
Signing off AGC