“The world ain’t sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place, and I don’t care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard you hit, it’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward—how much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done!”
I’m a really huge Rocky Balboa fan, if you haven’t been able to tell already. Each time I watch any of those films, or either of the Creed movies, I feel like I can conquer the world (It may or may not help that I live just an hour away from those iconic stairs Rocky’s known for climbing--I’ve made many a pilgrimage). This year, I felt like I had plenty of those moments. The moments when you’re in the arena fighting as hard as you can and as strong as you can. I almost feel some sort of strangeness at the calendar flipping back to the beginning. Another SuperBowl awaits us, another birthday, another semester. For me, a new year brings me a little bit of anxiety. I feel as though I’ve achieved so much, yet I’m hungry to be the best version of myself. I haven’t shown it all yet, and ever since May, I can’t shake that feeling off. How do I win?
“But how do you keep up the pace and the hunger pangs once you’ve run the race? When that dual exhaust is coolin’ off, ‘cause you don’t got nothin’ left to prove at all ‘cause you already hit ‘em with the coup de grace.”
After the presidency, I found myself clamoring for whatever that next big thing was going to be. I’m not the type to take breaks, especially when I feel like I have so much left to say on the subjects of sports, history, and diversity & inclusion. Instead, I took up reading--tons of it. I’ve probably read close to twenty books this year. I’m trying to learn about the world around me, the hurts within me, and the thought of who I could be. So much to unpack, yet so much pressure I put on myself at the same time. Overthinking. Frustrated that I felt like I had so many opportunities, yet feeling like no one had taken an interest in what I did. Always needing to prove myself. To who? I’m still not completely sure.
“Used to spend a lot of time daring myself, then spent a lot of time comparing myself. Turn into the doubt, then the fear in myself. Overthinking to the point I was imparin’ myself.”
Before the school year ended and right after Thanksgiving, I made the choice to drop out of my teacher’s education program. It wasn’t a popular decision. My teachers couldn’t believe it. A student who has all the boxes checked, so close to graduation… leaving? It’s true. I was a history major with an English minor and a Religion minor. I could teach any of those subjects from 6-12. Why would I leave an assured job?
The whole department found out and then I found out that I was in trouble. I had to have a meeting with a professor, but it turned into one of the most hurtful moments of the year:
“So, I hear you’re leaving the department?” she asked snarkily. I definitely wasn’t going to sugarcoat it. I’d made up my mind and I was ready to jump in.
“Yes,” I answered shortly. I knew where this was going.
“Well, I would like to give you my two cents and encourage you as you make your decision.” Thus began the hurtful tangent. “Communication is really hard, and I think it will be difficult for someone like you (Whatever that’s supposed to mean). Several of the people that my son went to school with, who were doing graphic design, were not able to find jobs and they had to be freelancers (I’m not even doing graphic design???). They had to be really rare and so would you.”
I sat there stoically. I can come off as an incredibly nice individual, but when I get rather upset, I shut down and stop talking. I’ll look at you very seriously and not say a word, even when you ask my thoughts.
“My son, I’ll have you know, went and got his Master’s in Communication and went to go work for the General Conference of Seventh-day Adventists for a bit. You have no idea how hard this is going to be. I would say that you’re much better suited being a lawyer, you seem obsessed with the idea of equity. Teaching is a guaranteed job, communication is not.”
I was seething at this point and finally proceeded to tell her of all I’d done in 2018. Videos I’d personally directed, produced, banners across campus, civil rights figures speaking at convocation, a massive multicultural performance night. She merely shrugged.
“Nope, haven’t heard of any of that at all.” She smiled. “Just wanted to remind you and make sure you knew how hard this is all going to be. Even if you worked for Hollywood, like one of my son’s friends, you could lose your soul. Though he was ‘rare’ and he’s probably not Seventh-day Adventist anymore.”
Quietly, I sat. Just get this meeting over and get out of here, I’d thought to myself.
“One last thing. Have you ever read a book called The Rainman? No? Well, I don’t remember the total story, but there were two friends in that book. One man had a nice-paying, salary job, and the other, who could’ve had all of that, ended up resenting him. He ended up poor and starving on the streets...that could be you (I’m definitely not sure if this book or movie goes like this, but this was her version).”
“But it’s never too late to start a new beginnin’. That goes for you too, so what you gon’ do? Use the tools you’re given! Or you’re going to use the cards you’re dealt with as an excuse for you to not do anything with ‘em? I use to play the loser victim, ‘til I saw the way that (my friends) were driven. I found my vehicle and I haven’t ran out of gas yet…”
I did win, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. If 2018 could have ended with that moment on stage when my good friend Rhidge had told the crowd about the hard work people would have never known about, I could have moved on to 2019 a happy man. I stood on that stage with tears in my eyes, pointing up to heaven because I knew I hadn’t achieved any of that alone. Yet... as my grandmother always says, “Life goes on.” A month later, I got that nasty message I mentioned in an earlier post, and about a month or so after that, I was hit by a car and left with a nasty, permanent scar on my right hand. A month after that, I was nearly put in jail for driving on a suspended license for nearly half a year (I obviously didn’t know). The next month, I was fully devoted to finishing up the only reason I’d stayed behind one more year in college, but I’d realized how much I didn’t want to be in the profession and dropped out. Then there’s probably the most important conversation of 2018 for me:
Before I go home, I always spend some time with my grandparents just south of Atlanta, Georgia. Their home is my home. It’s a wonderfully smelling, constantly-cleaned home with an even fuller pantry. Life, however, has become more and more difficult. Grandad is slower to get up, requires much more help than ever before, and is weaker each time I see him. The assisted living home he stayed in during Thanksgiving wants to take him back and keep him longer, which could always be a codeword for eternally, but my grandmother knows it isn’t the answer. She’s driven to see one last big thing in her life.
She wants to see her oldest grandson succeed. She wants to see him with a job. She wants to see him self-dependent and perhaps even married. She worries, now more than ever, that I don’t have a contingency plan after graduation. She explained to me that there’s nowhere to go now--no one can support me once I leave. Who knows what will happen to Grandad? He probably can’t travel to my graduation. If he goes to rest, Grandmom’s budget gets cut completely in half. Will she get to keep the house and everything else? Where can I go?
“Develop a plan!” echoes through my mind, as my grandmother looked at me sternly with all the love in her heart. It’s all I can hear in my head. B-but I don’t have a plan. I’m putting in the work and unsure when those results will come. What if I don’t find the job I need to sustain myself after all? What if that teacher’s “advice” was right?
“The opposite of faith ain’t doubt, it’s when I get it all figured out.”
Everytime I watch the training montages in any of the Rocky films, I have goosebumps. I actually really don’t like to work out much, as I find running and jumping to be more my style. As long as I’m never compared to Kevin Durant’s body, I guess I’m doing something right. As Rocky puts himself through unimaginable training for the great bout ahead, there’s always something that motivates him to win. Maybe it’s that time Adrian told him, after coming out of a dangerous coma, to simply win. Maybe the moment when he’s knocked out and unsure if he’s still the champion the world doubts he is. Maybe it’s the moment when his best friend is killed in the ring. It’s that moment when something breaks inside of us. You win, or you lose it all. You fight when you have everything to lose. 2019 is the year where I train harder, perform better, succeed even when the odds are against me. Everything is earned, not given.
I hope that this, too, is your rallying cry.
I have to win. I’m depending on it and I’ll make my grandparents proud.
“Just came out of the winter, just came out like a winner. Had a breakdown, couldn’t stay down figure, rather die trying, then to live like quitter… Yeah my problems big, but I know God way bigger. What you ‘spect? Once you level up, don’t you know the boss is bigger?”