By Randall Moss
Four years to get a degree I thought would make me feel special. Four years, for me to realize that I am black and excellent...I’m Black Excellence. It is the same thing as excellence, except for being black made feeling excellent harder. Excellence has been stripped away and given to those with little to no melanin. Four hundred years of feeding and building America, and 9-year-old me was taught our greatest idea was Peanut Butter.
We survive the depression caused by hashtags, anxiety facing law enforcement, and the war in our neighborhoods. The same kid you dapped up 2 days ago, shoots at you for street cred. You get away, but you fall into the trap of the hooded gentlemen who do not miss. They escape justice by being the neighborhood watchmen or fear of what could have happened. Yet I watch people condemn and prosecute animal abusers. Isn’t it crazy my ancestors had a better sense of protection from random white men when they were seen as property, than I do with my “unalienable rights”?
If we celebrate our excellence too loudly, it is mistaken as an insult to other races. But I assure you, Black Excellence is not about black vs white or any other race that may feel offended. It is better than winning any racial competition.
But If you had to look into my mirror each morning, you would find that Black Excellence is accepting your blackness, even when it's a threat to Yourself and others. If I do not smile when I talk, somebody will think I'm angry and ask, “Why don't black people smile often?”
Maybe it is the tears shed every two weeks or feeling like everyone hates us, while proving my blackness because I might get cancelled. If I’m not constantly aware of the black agenda or do something “white”, I might just be a sellout...until another hashtag and we protest for a couple of days and then we go back to dissing and breaking one another. Four years, and I realize that excellence is easy, but being black is the challenge.