MBTM

Noun7

Notice that nowhere in there did I claim to be a thug. I am no one’s nigger/nigga. I’m not a baby daddy ducking and dodging my responsibilities. I am not a criminal, a felon, nor have I ever been a suspect. But that can change with my hands up and the pull of a trigger….

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Nouns: The Man Behind The Moms

P.S.; Fearless Moms

Noun3

I was announced as a boy, I was born a son. In those first moments of life, every new breath I took confirmed my role as a baby brother, a grandson, a nephew, and a cousin.

Two years later I became a big brother. I would repeat that role three more times. They began to Noun 11introduce me to the world, where I became a friend, a classmate, and to few, a regular playmate.

I was being raised as a Black boy by strong Black women. They sent me off to become a student. I excelled. Before 1st grade I was someone’s best friend. 2nd grade I became a poet. I’ve never looked back. All the way till 6th grade I was a scholar.

In church I became a tenor, an usher, a Master of Ceremony, a soloist, a Sunday School teacher, a leader, and an object of affection (boyfriend?). Clearly…

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Nouns: The Man Behind The Moms

Noun3

I was announced as a boy, I was born a son. In those first moments of life, every new breath I took confirmed my role as a baby brother, a grandson, a nephew, and a cousin.

Two years later I became a big brother. I would repeat that role three more times. They began to Noun 11introduce me to the world, where I became a friend, a classmate, and to few, a regular playmate.

I was being raised as a Black boy by strong Black women. They sent me off to become a student. I excelled. Before 1st grade I was someone’s best friend. 2nd grade I became a poet. I’ve never looked back. All the way till 6th grade I was a scholar.

In church I became a tenor, an usher, a Master of Ceremony, a soloist, a Sunday School teacher, a leader, and an object of affection (boyfriend?). Clearly not all at once.

After Winter Recess of 7th grade I was a certified flirt. Before the end of my Jr. High career I was a 3x Champ. I found out I was someone’s crush. I became some what of a dancer (modern, jazz, ballet) and almost considered myself an artist. I was definitely a growing socialite and a victim of some SERIOUS puppy love.

High school came and I became even more. I was a growing, young Black man. I became a stepper; a performer. I was somebody’s boyfriend. I mean FOR REAL boyfriend. I became somebody’s first…on more than one occasion and in more than one sense.

I became a graduate. I became a son/brother/nephew/cousin/Grandson they could be proud of.

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Brockport

JCC

Then I became I college man.

Through the years I was a repeated lover…even while being a boyfriend. I became a spoken word artist. I love the stage. I honed my skills as a confidant, a comforter, and a companion. I became a frat; a brother in a different sense.

 

 

So much has changed since then. I am a born again New Yorker. I’m Youth Development Professional. I’ve been a supervisor to people who were once my peers. I’m a resource to those looking for work. I am a coach to the young and know-it-alls, trying to whip them into shape.  I am an above and beyond uncle, and an appointed Godfather. I am an optimist and a humanitarian. I’ve been a part of a Millennial movement and I’ve had the honor of being a best man.  Nouns

Notice that nowhere in there did I claim to be a thug. I am no one’s nigger/nigga. I’m not a baby daddy ducking and dodging my responsibilities. I am not a criminal, a felon, nor have I ever been a suspect. But that can change with my hands up and the pull of a trigger….

I am a son, a brother, a cousin, a nephew, a Grandson, a lover and a friend they can be proud of. I am a strong Black man raised by strong Black women.

 

 

 

Noun5

Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

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“Maniacally, the mother brooded over her children (her children)…brooded over them like a cat over its kittens; but a cat that could talk, a cat that could say, ‘My baby, my baby,’ over and over again. ‘My baby, and oh, oh, at my breast, the little hands, the hunger, and that unspeakable agonizing pleasure! Till at last my baby sleeps, my baby sleeps with a bubble of white milk at the corner of his mouth. My little baby sleeps…'”

We Need More

I still want and need MEN who want to tell their stories as well. Don’t let the title fool you. This sight is for ALL PARENTS who had their children at YOUNG AGES and are developing and growing right along with their children. I am trying to build a community of people to give each other advise and encouragement.

Email me at ciaseem.a@gmail.com to share your story.

Uncle's Baby

Or Facebook me. Look forward to hearing from you.