Sitting in the No. 1 Son’s high school cafeteria last week brought me back to my days at Graphic Communication Arts (GCA) High School. This is the same place that birthed members of the rap group Onyx and R&B crooner Maxwell.
It was far from the best school Manhattan had to offer but it gave me a solid writing foundation. Mr. Hamm taught me media literacy and how to deliver a thoughtful critique. This was pre-game mode before I entered Johnson C. Smith University and I was super prepared. (Thanks, Mr. Hamm.)
HIGH SCHOOL: BACK IN THE DAY
I had picked GCA against my mother’s better judgment to stay in middle school for 9th grade. Imagine lots of unnecessary theatrics on my part when Ma refused to sign the paper. It took longer than expected but she reluctantly scrawled her signature across the tiny permission slip.
All these years later, I still believe that I won the lottery with GCA. I root for the underdog in life and literature.
At GCA, we chose majors the way students do in college. I loved the idea of being on a writing track and at 16 years old (uh, why wait until college?) I took it seriously. Sometimes a lil’ bit too seriously.
There was lots of loud, passionate speaking (read: arguing) in our newsroom. Back then I knew storytelling would be a part of my life. I even had a name for my media company—Smart Brown Fox (corny, I know)—and logo. My friends called me Ms. Huxtable. I carried a briefcase. I wore blazers. I was about my biz.
Sitting in the cafeteria at the No. 1 Son’s school and watching the upperclassmen explain the benefits of their respective majors was the ultimate throwback Thursday.
It was 19—oh, never mind—all over again.
HIGH SCHOOL: PRESENT DAY
The No. 1 Son and I share many similarities (he totally stole MY birthday and is pretty slick with the vocab) and now we share this: majors.
Unlike my days at GCA, the No. 1 Son has technology on his side and eight majors to choose from, everything from architecture to film to animation to graphic design, and freshman have to pick one next week.
One.
That’s like rolling up to a buffet and you’re only allowed to eat string beans.
Despite knowing how this whole major thing worked, I wanted the No. 1 Son to experience all of it. (Shoot, I wanted to experience all of it!) The film/video production track was patterned after NYU’s film program and the students create short films, commercials and PSAs. The senior who presented is a future triple threat: writer, producer and director.
His film reel was sick.
We were kindred spirits. I knew that he took himself too seriously in the editing bay.
I hope that young man never loses his curiosity, fire and passion for telling dope stories on paper and with a lens. I hope he and the No. 1 Son never forget to be fearless.
Reviewing those majors made me miss my days at GCA. Okay, that’s a lie. I don’t miss high school Tee at all. I spoke more than I listened. I was all big hair, hormones and blazers. (Well, I still love my blazers!)
I envy the No. 1 Son’s ability to work on his craft in a community of peers. These kids design and sew haute couture, shoot and edit commercials and draw and sell cartoon books at Comic Con.
I sat in awe of these talented, outspoken creatives learning the power of entrepreneurship, intellectual property and putting their skills to work at local galleries, advertising agencies and studios.
Pardon the cliché but it reminded me that anything is possible—and that fear is our worst enemy. (Remember when you were fearless?)
We need stick-to-itiveness.
We need diverse stories.
It made me proud that these high school students—Black, Asian, Latina, Native American and White—are already whipping up films, sneaker designs and photography exhibits together.
They’re hungry. (Remember when you were hungry?)
Let it move you to do your creative thing, whatever that may be.
Create at night, on the weekends, during summer break.
Stop talking about it and get ish done.
Who’s with me?
