30 days and change: Day 7
DAY 7: Describe someone you admired when you were young. Did your impression of that person change when you grew up?
Word Count: 685
You know… I’ve never thought about who I admired as a child. I felt I admired many aesthetics, “moods,” and “vibes,” but I didn’t admire one singular person. When I think back to when I was “young,” I think about my undergrad years more than anything. High school was a blur and felt insignificant from this particular standpoint.
Actually… If we’re writing about admiration, it’s admiration we’re getting. Do you know who I admire? Black Men! As a queer man, I know the sheer space and intersection in which I exist can make for a complicated relationship between queer Black men and Black men at large. However, in hindsight, I greatly admire Black Men, and I think these are the men important enough to be shouted out here.
The first of them is my Pop-Pop! The epitome of a man! Raising seven children, supporting 14 grandchildren, and being the cornerstone of a family. This man drove me to undergrad for the first time and to countless appointments, practices, rehearsals, and more. At times, showing up more than my very own father. He was one of those men who did what he said he would do: show up when you always needed him (even when you didn’t) and was a quiet authority we all knew and loved. I miss him; we lost him the same week I got married in 2022.
Walking through my middle and high school years, I didn’t have a Black male teacher until Mr. McDuffie, now Dr. Norman McDuffie. He was my pre-algebra and algebra teacher. But he was the first Black male teacher I saw, and he could tell the time, energy, and care it took to be an educator. Dealing with someone like me who is not math savvy, easily frustrated, and with a spitfire attitude, I was a bit much to deal with in his classroom and outside of it. As I reached my junior and senior years, McDuffie became our assistant principal, where his reach was much broader and more influential. Although not directly in his class, we spent plenty of time together with my behavior. But that’s another story for another day and time. Most importantly, I’d like to personally thank him for inspiring me to become an educator and, most importantly, for dealing with the headaches I caused and still handling me with genuine care and a curiosity for understanding. Thank you!
The last Black man I wanna shout out, and most importantly, thank, is Dr. DaVaughn Miller! Dr. Miller, my choir director at Livingstone College, has been one of the most influential men in my life outside of my Pop-Pop. Not only an incredible musical talent, Dr. Miller was a true leader, mentor, and father figure when the ones I had known all my life were too far to reach. When I was flopping in undergrad, half doing my work, too afraid to come out of my room, he got me together like only a concerned father could, which means that I respect myself, my talent, and my time—rebuilding my lack of confidence brick my brick and seeing what I didn’t see in myself then. He instilled a love of HBCU choral stylings and a love of singing communally and deepened my appreciation of the human voice. He taught me to appreciate the here and now. He would periodically ask us to “Stop, look around the room. The people next to you, to your left and right, will never be in this same spot, with you doing this very same thing, ever again.” At the moment, we had some understanding of the weight of his words, but at 33 and over 10 years out of undergrad, lives lost and lived far apart, that shit echoes in my heart and mind so much. I’ve lost some folks, lost touch with folks, and the like. He required such a high standard from all of us, me included. Thank you, Miller!
