Diary

Why National Hazing Prevention Day Failed

September 6, 2012 by Rashid

“You all know I’m not much for words. I hate public speaking. I panic when I think about our probate show—if we’re still having one, that is. But I want everyone in this room to know a few things.

“First, I have wanted to be a Beta since I was twelve years old. The only teacher I had in middle school who gave a damn about me was a Beta. He was young, fresh out of college and determined to save young black boys in Shaker Heights. He taught English all three years I was there, and he was so successful that they just kept looping him up with the classes.

“Because of him, I knew what to expect out of the process. I knew it wouldn’t be easy. So I stood there and I took it. I took the verbal shit with no problem. I knew it was a game and I could take it. And I took the physical shit, too. I knew that just because I took it didn’t mean I had to be that kind of brother if I crossed.

“But now I see there is no end to it. No matter what, I’m going to do the same things that were done to me. I survived, so why not, right? It’s just the way things are, right?

“I don’t think so. My teacher, Mr. Nelson, taught me better than that. I know that much of what we were going through was wrong and didn’t make any sense. We weren’t getting to know you all like we should—hell, half the things we were learning in set were neither accurate nor universal. What’s the point of learning ‘Excuses’ when every chapter does it differently? What’s the purpose behind these challenges if they are specific to Sigma chapter? It’s like I’m not even pledging Mr. Nelson’s fraternity at all.”

–Rick Brown, Epiphany

***

According to Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity, Inc. and Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc., yesterday (September 6, 2012) was the first annual National Anti-Hazing Awareness Day. “On National Anti-Hazing Day,” the Sigmas said, “Sigma chapters, Black Greek-lettered organizations and organizations all over are encouraged to host sensitivity training workshops on campuses using the newly developed anti-hazing sensitivity training curriculum material.”

It seems as though the Sigmas have created what they consider to be cutting edge, trailblazing materials to help stop hazing. They can be found here. Joining their constitutionally bound brothers, the Zetas came up with Finer Women Don’t Haze.

In press releases posted on each organization’s respective websites, the day was conceived by a coalition of organizations including Sigma Frater Rev. Al Sharpton’s National Action Network. Curiously, the National Action Network did not seem to post anything on their website or facebook page commemorating this day.

Most Black Greek Letter Organizations have been ardently opposed to brutality against their prospective members from the earliest days of their existence. Indeed, the 1990s brought in a new era known to most as “MIP” or Membership Intake Process. MIP among most Greeks outside of the chapter room is a four-letter word, while the word “pledge” remains a slur among the party faithful.

Books have been written about hazing among people of color: Black Haze by Ricky Jones, and of course Lazarus, Covenant, and Epiphany by yours truly. Obviously, I suggest that you buy them all.

Anyway, I’m just going to put it on out there: National Anti-Hazing Awareness Day was an abject failure.

I did a search of my facebook friends (as you can imagine, many are Greek), and just two Zetas posted about Anti-Hazing Awareness Day. No Sigmas on my friends list helped make this effort viral. No other NPHC organization participated nationally in this event, which may explain why none of my Pan-Hellenic brothers or sisters posted anything.

But that’s not why National Anti-Hazing Awareness Day failed.

It didn’t fail because the coalition’s national theme is the utterly unbrandable “LET’S NOT BEAT THE LIFE OUT OF A BEAUTIFUL LEGACY.” Nor did it fail because of the questionable administrative support that each effort receives outside of the national elected officers who volunteered to lead the effort. (And let’s face it, if you are on the national board of a BGLO, you better be about the business of governance, not the administration of a flimsy advocacy effort.)

No, National Anti-Hazing Awareness Day failed because it misses what needs to be the true target of any effort against hazing:

Middle school students.

Degrassi Community School: Haze-Free since 2001

Why middle school? Because this is an age where many students first experience more ritualized bullying than what they may have experienced in elementary school. It also may be the first time that young people begin to think of college as a very real opportunity for their futures.

I totally made that up. But I still believe it. I am not a social scientist, so I need for the scholars out there to really do research into this. Or if you’ve done the research already, consider submitting your findings to “Bullying and Hazing: An Interdisciplinary Journal.” Email Hank Nuwer at hnuwer@franklincollege.edu for details.

In order for National Anti-Hazing Awareness Day to have been a success, it needs to look at changing the culture of hazing over a period of time by investing in middle school students, high school students, and the college brothers and sisters.

First, every NPHC organization needs to engage children and families as they navigate their middle school years. Yes, I know, most BGLOs already have mentoring programs in middle schools. Well you know what? Do more. And do them better.

This article at the National Education Association’s website, written by Peter Lorain, states that “Middle school students are concerned about values, right and wrong, and the behavior and unfair treatment of others. Classroom and school activities should promote this emerging social awareness and concern.”

So, Greek teachers, why not encourage your students to learn about hazing and why it is wrong? Middle schoolers are smart. Many will immediately make the connection between bullying and hazing and they will wonder why college students make even dumber mistakes than the bullies in middle school. And we know that middle school students are already oversaturated with messages about bullying in the first place, so let’s step it up a notch.

NPHC organizations themselves should develop a hazing prevention lesson for the middle school level. And I don’t mean just for the kids who opted to be in the special programs of our organizations like Guide Right, GEMS, or a beautillion. I mean really make honest attempts to present a hazing prevention lesson to every middle schooler in your city or town. It can be done.

By the time these students reach high school, the problem of hazing will already be in the back of their heads. Therefore, the next thing NPHC organizations must do to stop hazing is for the graduate NPHC chapters in every city and town to present a workshop for graduating seniors and their parents about what to expect when they go to college when it comes to fraternities and sororities. The consequences of hazing need to be reiterated to them. Their parents – many of whom will undoubtedly be inactive fraternity and sorority members themselves – will also need a refresher on what is currently allowed and what is not. How many stories have we heard about the dad who was insistent that his son be made “the right way” only to be horrified that being “made right” now resembles something a lot more like torture at Guantanamo Bay than the pledging scenes we know from School Daze?

Teenagers leaving home for the first time need to know that they don’t have to submit to hazing. The “old school” Greeks back home will respect them more if they refuse to be hazed. This needs to be said and it needs to be meant.

By the time the student has reached college, NPHC organizations have invested in them from sixth grade to twelfth grade, teaching them about hazing in middle school as a social studies project, welcoming them into their various mentoring programs to teach them positive values, and giving them the facts about hazing as they leave high school. By this time, we should be invested enough to trust that they will refuse hazing. Attention then turns to how a chapter can learn activities which are alternatives to hazing.

But first, organizations need to know what exactly is happening on college campuses today. They need to know precisely what people think constitutes a pledge process these days. We cannot afford to wait until after the most brutal hazing occurs in order to study it. We need to know the steps which led to it. Therefore, Black Greek Letter Organizations must offer full amnesty to those members who step forward in an effort to change the hazing cultures in their chapters.

Amnesty Praise Break — Did somebody say amnesty??!!!

Yes, I am suggesting that hazers out themselves. And yes, I am suggesting that NPHC organizations forgive them and let it go, so long as everyone is committed to moving forward. Our organizations are so focused on doling out the consequences of hazing that the cloak of discretion now obscures even the smallest of warning signs.

Just as bullies are often stereotyped as kids from broken homes with self-esteem issues, “hazing chapters” often seen as lazy, thuggish, ne’er-do-wells. In all actuality, bullies are often quite smart, articulate, and charismatic – that’s how they get away with it at school all the time. Knowing this, I’d bet good money that many chapters that have been busted for hazing have won national awards and campus awards and have more than a few members who have been leaders on campus. Just as we don’t want hazers to “beat the life out of a beautiful legacy” we want to reform and rehabilitate these otherwise good and decent campus leaders who have gotten caught up in a culture they didn’t create and have never been given a way out from.

Yes, let the hazers have a semester when they can come to safe spaces with their chapter advisors, grad chapter presidents, task force members – whoever – so that they can put it out in the open and ask for solutions. Most hazers know what they’re engaging in isn’t the right way, but they don’t know how to change the culture of their chapter.

We already know the consequences of hazing. With apologies to True Blood, we all know that hazing is a one way ticket to The True Death – for your own membership and for your chapter’s charter. We get it. Hazing is bad. It can cost you your letters. In some states, it can cost you your professional license and your freedom.

But let’s focus on the brotherhood and the sisterhood by allowing those who want to change the opportunity to do so with a helping hand. Let’s help our own members understand that they have already been seasoned to be hazers because they survived middle school and high school bullying, but that they can break this cycle if they want to.

Let’s say farewell to these puffed up national initiatives and focus on the fortification of our own communities, starting with the youth and the re-humanization of our college brothers and sisters. They are our legacy. Just as we attempt to protect adults from abuse at the hands of other adults, we have to put energy into giving young people the tools they need to make the correct decisions in the first place.

Jesus, take the wheel of this Yellow Cab

August 16, 2012 by Rashid

I caught a cab today to run an errand before work. The driver was Muslim and African American. I had my earbuds in, so OBVIOUSLY I looked like I wanted to have a conversation about religion.

He asks me what I’m listening to, and I said “Dancing til Dawn” by Lenny Kravitz, off the “It’s Time for a Love Revolution” album.

Then he randomly asks me if I know what “la ilaha illa l-ah” means.

So I said “Excuse me?” And he repeats it. And I said, semi-playing dumb, “That’s the shahadah, right?” (The declaration of faith in Islam.)

(Note number one: Professor Maysam al-Faruqi didn’t teach no fools.)

He asks me what my faith is, and I said “I am a Quaker.” (I say it the same way I say “Georgetown” when I am asked where I went to school.)

He asks me what that means, and I said “It means for most Quakers that the Bible is not necessarily the infallible word of God and that the personal testimony and revelation is most important. Our services consist of sitting in silence for an hour.” I also explained that most Quakers are liberal-leaning and tend to be involved in causes of social justice and equality.

Because he’s never heard of such a thing, he then goes into how “corrupt” the world is today and everyone should have a religion which addresses the corruption.

Then he starts listing the corruptions. Apparently getting a tattoo is a corruption, and that’s when I mentally checked out of the conversation.

We were almost at our destination when he starts making the ultra-conservative, right-wing statements about how if you come out in favor of religion and morals in this country, you get attacked. Then he asked me if I had heard about the Chick-fil-A incidents….

At this point I was like JESUS, TAKE THE WHEEL! All I wanted to do was run my errand and listen to my husband on my mp3 player.

All in all, I was pretty taken aback because I don’t know many Muslims who proselytize in the first place, and I felt it was discourteous to engage someone in a conversation about religion in a situation they couldn’t escape from, unless I bailed out of the cab while it was rolling down 16th street, even though that would have been pretty bad-ass.

I may not be a very good Quaker, but I do believe in the fundamental part of it that insists that personal revelation is most important. I sit. I listen to God. Sometimes he talks to me. Sometimes he doesn’t. It’s good enough for me.

Why we be stealin, yo?

August 5, 2012 by Rashid

So friend from undergrad and compatriot in ratchetness asked, regarding “My Country t’is of Thee” and “God Save the Queen,” “Why did we poach the song of the colonizer?”

I don’t have the answer to that. All I know is that Americans remainded unoriginal for years and years after, and it seeped into Greek Life!

Example #1: Why the Alpha Phi Omega toast song to the tune of “Alma Mater” which is basically the tune of a whole bunch of school songs, including Cornell:

But here’s something else to blow your mind. Ever heard this song?

Betcha didn’t know:

!!!!!!

The Circle

July 28, 2012 by Rashid

Let’s be clear: I do not watch Basketball Wives.

One of my greatest failings in my life is that I have a hard time maintaining the appropriate boundaries between acquaintances and friends. This was easier when I was much younger. I don’t know what happened along the way, but I will try to hammer it out.

In high school, it was much easier learning who your real friends were. You were either connected by your neighborhood or your previous schools. For me, experiencing the trauma of a closed junior high school and being forced to start high school in 9th grade rather than 10th led to a great, small cadre of friends early on. Later, participating in other activities helped me meet new people and gain different friends, like a summer job at the National Library of Medicine, being a cheerleader, or FBLA. Even though every person I met along the way was not necessarily a friend, there are several who are still in my “circle.”

College changed things, but just a little. Being black in a mostly white college helped narrow down the field, so to speak. I was from a black city, went to a black high school, and had black friends. I knew I would encounter others, but when it came to my circle, I knew (or thought I knew) who it would consist of. Certainly every black person at Georgetown wasn’t my friend, and there were many non-black people I came to admire, respect, and love. But from the outset, I knew where I would be welcomed without much explanation, as a black man.*

I later pledged Alpha Phi Omega in an effort to feel more like I was part of the overall Georgetown experience, and I did. Suddenly, I was connected to all types of people racially, culturally, economically, and more. I felt not only part of Georgetown, but like I could actually befriend someone of a different culture because we had things in common aside from the accident of living on the same floor in the dorm.

(For more insight into the Georgetown experience during that time period, please pick up my buddy Thomas Chatterton Williams’ Losing My Cool. Although I was not “in” this memoir, I was present during the time period he writes about and much of it rang true for me.)

All this as a preface… I am basically saying that until I graduated college, it was pretty clear who my friends were and why. It wasn’t until after college that things got muddled and complicated.

***

I often tell people that I didn’t learn how to curse anyone out until I became a member of Alpha Phi Alpha.

In APO, there were definitely moments when brothers hated each other and got into fights and whatnot. Indeed, there was a moment when I did a wall-slide (literally!) and broke down into tears after a chapter meeting. But Alpha was different.

In my chapter of APO, even though you had to earn the chapter’s vote, anyone was allowed to start the process. There was no “competition” so to speak as much as satisfying the requirements while being liked by the chapter. Some APO chapters are more competitive, expecting that you “make line” like an NPHC organization, and others are not competitive at all, barely requiring that you do anything.

Alpha, of course, was different. It was far more expensive, time-consuming, and downright scarier. You had to constantly prove that this was for you, that this was the right for you, that you could afford it, that you just plain belonged there. Even though I pursued an alumni chapter, there was always the suspicion that I could be hazed, either the old fashioned way of straight brutality, or in sophisticated, old geezer ways of running errands, menial labor, and other servitude. Also, needless to say, there was a lot more information to learn: history, people, poems, projects, etc. And whether you were in another fraternal organization or not, you sort of just know going in that becoming a member will be an intense experience.

Along the way, you meet others who also want to be down. Some of them never considered Greek life until one day, the looked up and noticed that all of their friends were in fraternities and they were missing out. Other people always knew they wanted to be in a fraternity but couldn’t in undergrad because of their grades, expression of sexual orientation, general lameness, or the chapter was on suspension. And there were people like me, who always wanted to be part of something but took a long time to figure out what.

I love Alpha very much. And I loved my chapter dearly at one time in my life. But I believe that forcing people together who wouldn’t ordinarily be friends has done some damage to me that I’m only just now able to start repairing. And it’s not just Alpha – it’s also APO to a different extent.

I was 23 when I became an Alpha. My line brothers were 31, 40, and 43. That’s an alumni chapter for you. It’s far less likely that you will come in with people in your age group. Rather than go into the details which would either be boring or too personal, I’ll say that I never clicked with one of my line brothers at all. He was toxic from the start. I was close with the other two, but ended up pulling away from them after about a year. They were nice, generally, and meant well, usually, but for various reasons, I knew my heart wasn’t in our relationship. It doesn’t give me pride to say I am not close with my line brothers, but I feel it’s necessary to be honest about our relationship.

Subconsciously, I’ve tried to supplant these negative fraternal experiences with my line brothers into positive experiences and new memories with “specials” or “specs” [speshes]. In one case, my spec was someone I sponsored for membership in the Boston alumni chapter. In two other cases, they were people I took a shine to, but did not sponsor. In all three cases, I took the young brothers under my wing, taught them everything I knew, confided in them, was hard on them, and at the end, gave them the best crossing gifts ever. EVER.

But as time goes on, the black t-shirts fade and the paddles get dusty. Again, rather than bore you (further) or get too personal, just as I realized I had to let go of a relationship with my line brothers, I also have to let go of one with my specials, too. I can’t expect devotion just because I made them nice things and made fusses about each of them. Maybe for some of them, they just don’t see our relationship being what I wanted and hoped it could be.

***

I apologize for that interlude. It seemed sadder than I had hoped and strays far from the ratchetness of the animated gif of Evelyn Lozada up above.

My point:

Being an Alpha has complicated my perception of who is in my circle.

The “line brother” dynamic expects the individual to put the needs of the group ahead of the needs of the self. This is counter-intuitive to human nature. How can I expect to take care of the group if my mind, body, and spirit are not already in tip-top shape? Further, what if I have embraced the mentality of being on-line but my brothers have not? Having line brothers (or line sisters) is often romanticized as being a phenomenal thing, usually because the adversity and hardship of being on line is supposed to bring you together. Maybe my line and I didn’t go through enough hardship to truly trust each other. I can own that. But to what end is a line brother or line sister relationship if not friendship? Do we pick our other friends based on bad things happening to us? Of course not.

It’s also likely that I’ve romanticized what it means to have a special. I think I tried to codify the friendships I had with brothers when I was on-line into a more official relationship which proclaimed ownership of some sort:

You’re my spec.
I named you.
I chose you.
Look at these nice things I gave you.
Has anyone else done that for you?

Why do I have to be so weird about this? Why does this relationship need a name? Why can’t we just be friends?

***

I don’t have a lot of answers right now but I suppose there’s time to figure it out if I want to.

I know that becoming an Alpha was a choice and paying my dues every year is also a choice, regardless of the circumstances I’m faced with as an active member. And like I said, I love Alpha and I enjoy Alpha. And regardless of my complicated relationships with my line brothers and my specials, I still have some awesome friends in the fraternity who don’t need a title. They number less than ten and they are worth the price of admission.

But I also have to face facts: being a member of a fraternity forces me into relationships with people I would not ordinarily choose to be around or associated with. If you are not a fraternity member, you really need to consider this fact before you join. Your life can be just as enriched without membership in a fraternity if you know how to make friends with people – and know how to be a good friend in the first place.

If you love having a small circle, know that membership is the opposite of that. Be prepared to either fake it or be known as that evil, surly frat brother that nobody likes.

I feel this will need a Part II because I didn’t even get to touch on the notion of what happens when people who don’t share your values think they’re in your circle. And that has nothing to do with being in a fraternity.

*As a gay man, it would be two years into my Georgetown experience before I would become comfortable enough to officially be out of the closet to the black community. Perhaps that warrants another diary entry at a later date.

Gratitude on the occasion of my 33rd birthday

June 25, 2012 by Rashid

I am grateful to the Civil War-era orphan Peter Darden, who married Julia Jordan and began the branch of my family tree which would give me my last name. I will probably never know the first four years of his life, who his parents are, or how he came to live in a poor house at such a young age. But I know that his resilience lives in me just as strong as his last name.

I am grateful to Southampton County, Virginia, and Northampton County, North Carolina, for being my families’ ancestral homes. I am grateful to Southampton County, VA, in particular for also being the home of Nat Turner and his slave rebellion. I am convinced that the spirit of this rebellion lives on in me; that the reason that I am never satisfied with the status quo and become incensed at injustice is because of the blood spilled in Southampton County.

I am grateful to my mother for wanting me in spite of being alone, for keeping me despite the stigma of single parenthood, for raising me to be who I am by any means necessary.

I am grateful to my grandparents on my mother’s side for being present in my life for as long as they lived (and still live).

I am grateful to the teachers of the District of Columbia Public Schools who believed in me and saw my talents at a young age. They are many in number, and thankfully the ones who disappointed me were few.

I am thankful for my brothers and sisters who proudly wear the Orange and Gray.

I am grateful to Georgetown for taking a chance on me. Georgetown changed my life forever. There’s no better way to put it.

I am grateful to the people who slowly and subtly introduced me to Alpha Phi Omega just by living it daily: Joe, Nathalie, Belen, and Liz. You didn’t know it then, but you paved the way for limitless leadership opportunities for me. When you “do” APO right, it builds a personal and professional foundation which is unparalleled.

Once upon a time, an 18 year old boy was about to begin college. He waited at the bus stop to take him to school. A purple Rolls Royce pulled up and some familiar and friendly faces offered to take him to fraternity row. The boy said sure. Along the way, the men in the Rolls told him stories of fraternity life and assured him that he’d make a fine fraternity member one day. The boy became excited at the prospect of joining the men. A mile from fraternity row, the men kicked the boy out of the car and tossed him his bag. “You go the rest of the way on your own,” they said. Discouraged, the boy walked up the road and found many houses to choose from. He ultimately chose the house with the black Bentley parked out front. He always kept the purple Rolls in his mind and wondered what his life would have been had he chosen that path. But he was grateful that the men – his friends and mentors- had allowed him to find his own way. Thank you, Omega Psi Phi, Alpha Chapter, Spring 96.

I will always be grateful to Ameriie for supporting my career before I had one.

There are people who I will never be able to say thank you to again, at least not in the flesh. But now that they belong to the universe again, I am sure that they know it. Thank you Jesse, Maya, Jimi, Jabriel, Tre’Nai, and so many more.

I am grateful, ever so grateful, to all of you who have supported my career as a novelist. This is hard work that is so infrequently rewarded; frustrating work that is still stigmatized if you are self-published. Even now I notice those friends in the writing world who interact with me less the more I grind and hustle BECAUSE I HAVE TO and nobody else will hustle for me. So to my readers, my fans, and my stans – I thank you and I have no doubt that this will all pay off some day.

I am grateful for Neil, my constant.

I am grateful for the faces in my life who provided the visual blueprint for Adrian Collins, Savion Cortez, Nina Bradley, and Isaiah Aiken. When I first wrote Lazarus, I knew who these faces were. By the time I finished Epiphany, they had their own wrinkles and scars and complexions – they are new people entirely. But I am still grateful to the blueprints.

I am grateful to my mentor, Dennis Williams, who helped me transform my anger and resentment to an artist who I am certain copied my work, into the rebirth of my career as a whole. This is one time in my life where I truly believe the adage that the best revenge is living well. Dennis has been the closest thing to a father figure that I will ever know.

I am grateful to all of you who can read me. Those of you who know when I am “on” and when I am “off” and when I need propping and when I need prodding. I don’t know how to pick friends who are intuitive, but I am grateful for you.

I am grateful to the men who taught me how to kiss, how to hug, and how to make love. (There weren’t THAT many. I was a quick study.)

I am grateful to the women who respect my masculinity, who have never asked me to be the Will to their Grace, who have never asked who the man is in my relationships (we both are), who understand that they will never be my “fag hag,” who respect my space to be among men, regardless of their orientation, and who, without hesitation, knew I was going to the same heaven they’d be going to.

I am grateful to the men – the straight men – who treat me as their equal regardless of my sexual orientation, who expect (and demand) that I am exactly as I am in their presence; the men who are not uncomfortable by my stories or my jokes; the men who do not look away during Noah’s Arc or the DL Chronicles; and the men who read my novels and enjoy them exactly as they are.

I am grateful to the little brothers in the struggle, those who have come after me and are brave enough to disclose their orientation to me. I never know how much I can help them, but every time a young brother in the struggle discloses his orientation, I feel I have been given a sacred trust to protect, to shield, to guide through the rough times, and to prepare before it’s time to come out and be yourselves. I value that so much.

I am grateful to the people I never had to come out to. It’s quite meaningful to me that hundreds of Coolidge alumni or Tried Stone members can add me as a friend, see one of my statuses, and just roll with it. We’ve come so far.

I am grateful for Ciroc and Absolut. What?

I am grateful for Adobe Acrobat, InDesign, and PhotoShop.

I am grateful for a place to stay that has space for all my belongings and the means to pay for it.

I am grateful for Magianno’s and Diet Ginger Ale and Haribo Peace slices and red velvet anything.

I am grateful for pre-hoarding tendencies. If it’s not in your local library, ask me.

I am grateful for horror movies and Halloween pot lucks and True Blood.

I am grateful for my former students – I had no idea I would ever be a teacher of any kind and I’m glad to have had some small part in their education.

I am grateful to be a man. It is a blessing to recognize one’s own privilege in this world and I don’t take my manhood for granted. I may be a minority in other ways, but I recognize that my manhood gets me places that being a woman will not. I do not abuse this privilege, but I recognize it.

I am thankful for having recognized my calling as a novelist who also happens to be a nonprofit professional. Observe the order: it will never change.

I am grateful that I have the “eye” for photography. I will never be a great technical photographer, but I’m happy that I spent time learning how to compose a picture. Sometimes I forget it’s one of my talents because I don’t have the time to cultivate it like I should.

I am grateful for all of the friends who have been in my life for a reason; the friends in my life who have been there for a season; and the friends who will be there for a lifetime. We don’t always know the reason or how long the season, and we don’t know for how long the lifetime will last. But for all of you who I have considered a friend, I do love you, and chances are I’ve told you.

I am thankful, grateful, and humbled to have been given 33 years on this planet to do good things and to change the lives of others; to live every single moment to the fullest extent possible; to have loved with all of my heart and to have been loved; to be proud in exactly who I am, whether I knew who I was at that moment or not; to have been changed by the many people I have met; and to have written stories with resonance, that made others cry as I’ve cried writing them. I love who I am, where I’ve been, and where I’m going. I am Rashid from Tuckerman Street, from 2^nd Street, from 16^th and Meridian, from Georgetown, from Riggs Park, from Brightwood Park. I take pictures. I write books. Yet, I wear jeans and t-shirts and would walk around barefoot if I could. I am the King of Dardenland who carries Hattori Hanzo steel. I am the heir of the legacy of Peter Darden. I am the father figure to some, the brother of many, the son of two, and the father of those yet to come.

But above all of those things, I am grateful to be here.

Hebrews 13

June 7, 2012 by Rashid

Let brotherly love continue.
Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.

(From the 13th Chapter of Hebrews, English Standard Version)

In Lazarus, which is my first novel, I discuss in detail the pledge process of the Sigma Chapter of Beta Chi Phi Fraternity, Inc. Reactions to the fact that it is so detailed have been mixed. Some people (who are Greek) feel that it is too detailed and I have somehow defiled the sanctity of “The Process.” Others (who are not Greek) are simply uninterested in the minutia of a pledge process and wish I would focus on the characters more. Then there is the majority, who get so engrossed in the details of the process that it is entirely fulfilling to them.

Certain mysteries of Greekdom remain by the end of Lazarus though, not the least of which are what sort of ritual secrets the pledges learn when they cross.

In Covenant, we learn one of those secrets: the motto. Taken from the first verse of Hebrews 13, the secret motto is “Let brotherly love continue.” It is spoken as part of the opening ceremonies of the chapter meeting. It is also the backbone of the philosophy of the entire organization, which is fleshed out further in Epiphany.

To the Betas, letting brotherly love continue is their prime directive. No matter what, the brotherhood must go on. It is this directive that Craig follows which turns him from virulent homophobe to merely an aggressive prophyte helping Adrian prove his mettle. We know that in reality, Craig is still a homophobe, but his belief in the motto of the fraternity allows him to at least silence his rage and begin the process of accepting Adrian as he is, where he is.

The motto is exemplified more organically by the majority of Adrian’s line brothers, who in their own way and apart from Adrian, learn to accept his sexuality in spite of what popular opinion may be. Further, on either side of the spectrum, there are members of the line who do far less than accept Adrian and those who do far more – those who never doubted their brotherly love for Adrian for a second.

What is addressed in Epiphany is the second verse of the chapter. Regarding hospitality, it admonishes the reader (and in this case, Betas) to show hospitality even to strangers, lest their own divinity be ignored. A literal reading could take this passage to mean that actual angels could be ascertaining your worth by a test of your hospitality. A more liberal reading, perhaps that of a Quaker, might suggest that if God is in all of us, then we are disrespecting God by being inhospitable to strangers.

In Epiphany, as an Amazon reviewer states, Adrian finds an element of his own strength through his interactions with other Beta chapters. It could be argued that these brothers, who for all intents and purposes, are able to recognize the God within each other without having to know each other directly. They gain camaraderie as well as strength; social ties as well as benefits from these relationships. They are trained to be hospitable to one another, which further facilitates letting brotherly love continue.

It’s been quite a while since I’ve performed an exegesis – hope my Theology professors are proud!

While Beta Chi Phi is obviously a fictitious fraternity, I wanted to inject what I felt were the important parts of Greekdom into the mythology of this organization. Brotherly love (and sisterly devotion) should always transcend the bad times, if possible, of course. I don’t mean merely glossing over the bad times or not addressing drama as it occurs – I mean that the type of people who join an organization should be the ones who have the capacity to transcend. Even though, as I said above, Craig might not actually be cured of his homophobia, at least he understands that there is decorum which he must adhere to now that Adrian is his brother. I was not always afforded those same courtesies when my brotherhood learned that I was openly gay. I was indeed accosted and literally surrounded by members of another chapter for that very reason. And there was the hate mail I received through my previous website – a reason that I will not allow comments on my diary to this day.

But I’m not a victim, so don’t worry about all that. There will always be those people for whom brotherly love cannot transcend their own prejudices. I blame the prophytes. And in the absence of prophytes, I blame the parents.

Regarding hospitality, I am troubled by those Greeks who do not perform their due diligence at accommodating fellow members of organizations. Yes, yes, I am that same guy who frequently tells people “I joined Alpha Phi Alpha, not the NPHC.” But I mean it for different reasons.

When I say we should accommodate our fellow Greeks, I mean that if there is a Sigma that I can consider for an internship, I will consider him. I like interns. They don’t have to all be Alphas.

If I see a Greek on the street – any Greek – I am going to acknowledge them, even if they are outside of my council, or even a member of a so-called “white” fraternity or sorority.

If a friend has invited me to a crossing party for their special, I am going to attend if I can or send a greeting or a card if I can’t.

Just be hospitable. Be nice. Do for others. It’s not hard.

I went to a city for a work conference and met with as many friends and acquaintances as I could. One was a member of another fraternity. We had other things in common, but I tried my hardest to meet up with this dude and make sure he understood the opportunities for service and professional advancement that I was in town for. Never met up with him. Just didn’t happen. Didn’t ever hear a good explanation, really.

And on the other hand, I met up with another person – an AKA – and even though a partnership never happened between our two jobs, the effort was made to meet up, to be hospitable, to “build” as the hip-hop community might say. This is what being Greek is all about. Taking a large network and using it to your benefit – not just because that’s what it’s there for, but because it also ought to be fun.

Obviously, “building” isn’t just for Greeks. The same theory of being hospitable to “strangers” can and should be utilized across all of your large networks. If you are a Georgetown alum, you already have commonalities with Duke and Syracuse alums. Bitter rivalries are for basketball. Put down the sword and get to work. Same for Howard and Hampton. We can do big things here.

Whether you believe in angels or not, you must certainly believe in good karma or paying it forward. As Hebrews admonishes us to do, make these sacrifices. Whether you believe they are sacrifices to God or to some personal gain, it can’t hurt to just be hospitable. I think indifference is a good gateway to spite and I’m definitely trying to have less of that in 2012.