After one semester of my school-work-graduate plan, I decided to break my usual mold and get involved on campus. One of the biggest and best involvement decisions I made was my choice to go Greek. Being an introvert with five brothers at home who I barely wanted to deal with, joining a brotherhood with 30 other men sounded like the last thing I should do. Once bid day came and I joined my new found brotherhood on the hill at the amphitheater I knew that I made a positive change that I wanted for myself. One problem some people had with my decision was the fact that I, a black man, decided to join an IFC fraternity (historically white) rather than an NPHC fraternity (historically black). My favorite, and most recent question all of the questions and comments I received is, "if you're so 'pro-black' why are you in a white frat? Isn't that a little hypocritical?"

Let's clear the air first with the acknowledgment that pro-black isn't anti-white. Pro-black is about loving your blackness and the celebration of black culture. Pro-black is about civil rights, human rights, the treatment of blacks being equal to the treatment of whites and every other group of people. Pro-black is not about hating white people or black supremacy or reversing historical roles of slavery and discrimination. Pro-blackness is the liberation of black people from the negative historical roles and stereotypes taught by American history. I'm proud of who I am. I'm proud of where my black history. I'm proud of my black skin. I'm proud of my black hair. I'm proud to be from a black community. That's what is pro-blackness, love, not hate.

Now that we have an understanding, let's move on. As mentioned earlier, I grew up in predominantly black environment, and don't get me wrong I'm proud of where I come from and I love my people. However, I wanted to experience Greek life. I wanted to experience different groups of people and cultures. I wanted to grow as a person and felt that one of the best ways to grow is to indulge in a diverse environment. My chapter is one of the most diverse I've ever seen. Racially, sexually, religiously, socio-economically. You name it, we have it. And I love it!

I also wanted to keep my own identity. Once a person goes Greek people tend to only see them as their letters, especially if everyone looks the same. That's not the case for me or my chapter. Of course, people know me as a member of my fraternity; in fact, people tell me that I'm a good representative of my fraternity and brothers have even told me that I embody the ideal brother. Shameless plug aside, since we are all so different, you have to get a little more personal to describe or identify me. If you say "that black guy in Theta Xi" You'll be met with a look of confusion because that's not a single person. In fact, that's not just a person at all. "This guy, he's in Theta Xi. He's black, kind of tall, skinny, always wears hats and has the best sense of style out of all of them," would be a better, more appropriate way to identify myself, for example.

I'm not here for white validation or to feel equal to white people as though they are superior. For one, all people are equal to me. I don't care what institutional racism has taught or history or what others believe. I don't lift any group above the other, especially not white people. Further, I have no desire to be equal to anyone. I want to be better than everyone. I didn't join a white fraternity because that's where I felt I could learn to be better than everyone, that's just a fact about me.

Additionally, I'm not here to whitewash myself or erase my blackness. NOTHING can erase my blackness. I cannot hide my skin and I cannot hide who I am, nor do I ever wish to lighten myself in any way, shape or form. My love for Malcolm in the Middle and the Backstreet Boys does not erase or scramble my connection and what I learned from the great Malcolm X. In fact, my need to bring a black voice to other communities and spread the message of pro-blackness often makes me feel like the Malcolm X of my generation (let a man dream, okay). And through my many speeches and rants Malcolm X's last speech playing in my head is where I found inspiration and a well-articulated argument.

Not always is "you're racist" or "that's racist, that's not okay" met with an acceptance and apology. In fact, it's one of the easiest ways to put a person on the defense, no matter your relationship. There are a lot of times back-and-forth discussions would occur where the accused would argue why the comment wasn't racist because they meant it in a way that's normal from where he comes from. These aren't particularly my favorite because telling someone that what they've been taught is wrong can get things heated and it's exhausting, especially since I don't back down and will stand by my reasoning until my last breath. I find that they are the more important lessons though because these arguments lead to the exposure of more information from both sides.

I would rather my voice be the first to speak on behalf of my people. I'm no professor or historian or the most knowledgeable person on all things black. But I have studied a lot of black literature, black history, and live life every day as a black man in America. I don't sugarcoat to coddle feelings nor do I distort the truth like history books, and I admit to any biases in myself of which I am aware. Nevertheless, I speak the honest truth and my honest opinions to anyone around me, especially friends and family. This is what we need. This is what not only white people need but anyone unfamiliar with another race or culture's background and history needs. We need to talk with each other and air out our problems. Nowhere have I witnessed conversations so real and enlightening than in the living room of a house or dorm room with pale and tan and brown skinned people who I call brothers. In said discussions I like to model myself after my spiritual father, El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz more famously known as Malcolm X.

People on the outside often think that being black in a white fraternity means excusing white privilege and each other's ignorance and sweeping things under the rug. As you can see, we're the exact opposite. There's a quote I read once that says, "If you have to hide your pro-blackness while around your white friends because they'll think you're racist, they are not your friends, they are your overseers." That's something I've felt since I first started to befriend white people and it has fueled many discussions during my college career.

Through my many reasons of my continuance as a pro-black member of a "white" fraternity, and all of the lessons I've taught and learned through my experience will admit this: I hate white people.

Woah. Pause. Relax.

I love my brothers. White, black, non-white, non-black, whatever race. I love my white friends. I love the Greek advisor, who is white and told me about NPHC fraternities when I worked in her office. I love our alumni. I love every person until they give me a reason to not love them.

When I say that I hate white people I mean that I hate the system and history of white supremacy that is deeply embedded in our country. I hate the institutional and systematic racism that we have to deal with on a daily basis. I hate the historical figures who took part in disconnecting my people from our native lands. I hate fact that black people had to create a separate council of Greek organizations just to become a part of one. I hate the perpetuators who made my feel guilty or hypocritical for my decision to join an organization I like with people who I felt a genuine connect just because the color of our skin. I don't like the phrase, but "I hate white people" is the simplest way America and its history has taught me to express those feelings.

As a result of my black voice and my firm stand and logical and justifying beliefs, I've noticed that my chapter is more socially and culturally aware of many racial issues and injustices. I don't want to take all of the credit as some brothers already have his own similar stances on social justice and race issues. I would like to say that I feel that my black voice is necessary and I will always use it to speak on what I feel is wrong. From chapter meetings to lunch tables to surfing a crowd, no matter what the letters are, I'M BLACK AND I'M PROUD!