Let me be clear (especially to Jim's boo). I do not want to be with Jim (and not in a yuck, Jim! way, rather, in a respect Jim way). Even if I did (which I don't), I wouldn't take his last name (not that there's anything wrong with that or with people who do, but if you know me, that's just not how I roll). The title simply puts us in the same family, but not of the nuclear fashion, instead, a research-based one.
The moniker of my article for this week, had I written one and asked the group to read it, would have likely been named, Lost in the Mall of America: An Experience with Controversy. JAM JR. knows fairly well about my background, but the rest of America (who reads this blog faithfully, of that I'm sure - heck, I'm up to 7 followers!) may be unaware. My undergraduate experience hinged greatly around diversity efforts at the University of Michigan, so it came as no surprise that my career goals were to effect change within the greater sphere of influence (even though while in college, you can't imagine your microcosm not being the entire world). The shocker for most, however, was that I wanted to be a clinical psychologist.
One of my big brothers, Duane Smith, would attempt to cajole me, "Why Riana, you're one of the greatest political minds the 20th century has ever seen! Which law school have you applied to?" "Duane, for the umpteenth time, I am not going to law school. First I'm going to teach, then I'm going to graduate school!" But it didn't stop with him. Everyone who was in an organization with me or who saw me speak on issues of multiculturalism could not fathom why I was going into the field that I was.
During my senior year (screw TJ, the term is SENIOR YEAR darn it!), I had a "meeting of the minds" in my apartment. The leaders of my class enjoyed salad, salmon, and punch, and discussed how each of our fields would contribute to the other as we slowly began to take over the world. Optimistic, yes. Idealistic, yes. Realistic, always. (After all, reality is what happens, and anything is possible!) We knew that (to steal a childhood favorite line) with our powers combined, we would do just about anything. The lawyers, engineers, social workers, and even wall street bankers knew that the training we got at Michigan - in passing signs with blackface (intentional or not, it was there: dark face, red lips), receiving calls about nooses being hung from doors, boycotting the newspaper, and being called nigger while going to class - was great preparation for the real world. And I was thoroughly convinced that my role in breaking such mental entrapment was vital.
After teaching for two years in one of the most notorious neighborhoods in the U.S. (I'll spare the details on the blog, much more interesting in person anyway), I did research. To long story short it, I worked on a faith-based intervention for African-Americans, and was assisting with our introduction by finding literature. Or rather, not finding literature. The dearth of information on interventions and mental health programs for African-Americans is astounding.
And then I get to UVa, where I learn that some reasons people don't publish their work is because it's not statistically significant. Or even harmful! So let me get this straight. Interventions are happening, but we don't hear about their ineffectiveness or failures because it's not publish worthy? Ah. This is my calling.
Interventions are designed to work. If they don't, we need to learn how to work from them. It has been relatively proven that these programs are failing because of the environment that this community of people lives in. Let's change the environment. Let's go into the environment. Let's be the environment. One of change, optimism, and health-promoting behaviors. It's not enough for me to wait until one of these children commits a crime and ends up as my client. Or has diabetes and ends up in my office. Or needs a new foster mother and gets added to my case load. I'm going after the problem, at the root, whether it gets published or not. Whether it was intentional or not. Whether that's what everyone else sees me doing or not. It's my passion, and it will be my purpose.
This class=eye-opener. Many thanks for taking off the blinders.