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Materialistic or nah??

All of my adult life, I’ve had this tumultuous relationship with the concept of WANT. Being slightly zoomorphic, I can never get this hairy beast of WANT off my back. I applaud those individuals who live on a minimalist budget, care not about the latest techy gadget, or needs living decor straight from HGTV. I, on the other hand, seem to lust after things that interest me. Usually, when I see something that I want, I get it! What about your budget? What about your savings? My WANT of that inanimate object supersedes logic, at times. As I grow and mature, this is becoming less of an issue.

The real purpose of me starting this frail attempt to get my thoughts out of my head and onto “paper” is that I finally realized why I sometimes do things that are incongruent with my logical mind. Growing up in the Ezell household, my mother instilled a fierce sense of individuality into all of her kids. With this individuality came a high level of independence. She drilled it into our heads that we could accomplish anything we wanted. She told us to shoot past the moon, to the stars. That was her mantra that she repeated often to her children. Since we were “country kids”, we didn’t have much peer influence in our lives. Our play time consisted of using our imagination and taking adventures through the nearby woods. We had no other kids to corroborate or deny the concepts mom put in our heads. We did not have other adults telling us that we were not good enough…or were not going to achieve this or that…or that our quality of life was less than. All we had was mom….pushing us to go further, do better, and never to stop dreaming.

So I grow up…graduate top of my class…then I’m off to college. I started to realize that being a young African American man in Mississippi was not easy, to say the least. I had years of training and teaching and loving from two great parents. I was taught that I was important….that my wants/needs mattered. I soon learned that SOME components of our society did not share my perception of my life. I would be remiss to try to remember and document each racially-driven experience that I had as a young college student. It’s impossible to remember each slick remark, or downcast gaze, or clutched purse, or repeated locking of doors. I REMEMBER THE SHIT HAPPENED, THOUGH. And as a result of the cumulative actions of those beautiful, but very ignorant people, I have an undying obligation to prove that I’m not who they think I am. I’m not that Black man that you think I am. I’m not a thug. I’m not a thief. I’m not a fucking Mandingo who wants to ravage your lily white wife! I’m just me….Curtis Ezell. I want success. I want happiness. I want love. I’m more than sure that these wants are shared by many, regardless of their race.

So why do I WANT so damn much? I have to show you that I’m not the black guy living on the government and expecting something for nothing. I have to show you that I’m not the dropout who wanted to sell drugs for quick wealth. I have to show you that I didn’t come from a broken home, devoid of love and affection.

In conclusion, I have a great career that I love dearly, family and a small circle of friends that I can call on for anything, a foreign whip, and dreams and goals for much more in life. I realize that no matter what I have…what I drive….how I conduct myself…I will be reduced to the amount of melanin in my skin. Trust me, I know that this doesn’t apply to all of God’s amazing humanoids, but here in a State with such a blood-stained past of racial injustice, it can seem like the popular vote.

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