Having the Nerve

If there’s one thing I’ve had growing up and maneuvering young adulthood, it’s the nerve to ask several questions and pursue the answer. When does that become taboo? When does that become uncomfortable? It’s subjective.

When I informed peers that I would pursue honors distinction for my degree, focusing on Black male identity and sexuality, I received varied reactions. Overwhelmingly supportive, but the reactions ranged from curiosity, laughter, silence…. It made me somewhat nervous. But I pushed through.

This wasn’t an easy task. I had to think it through. My advisor at the time didn’t even know if he should take me and my project on, because he didn’t think I would have the time to do it well. He was kind of right.

I made the time. I surpassed his expectations, and the Association of Black Sociologists even awarded me first place in an undergraduate writing competition. I pushed the limits and the tempo. But, as is typical, I had even further goals for the work. I wanted my work to be accessible to the masses.

I wanted a book. And I’m finally making that happen with the support of friends and family. But I also don’t want to downplay the nerve that I’ve had to have and sustain throughout this process.

I want the retailer to be courageous in choosing to stock a book with such a striking title. I want the reader to be courageous in picking up the book off the shelf. I want the reader to be courageous in recommending others read the book…. In order to have that, I have to be courageous. I have to have the nerve.