Roaring 20’s
“You’ll have bad times, but it’ll always wake you up to the good stuff you weren’t paying attention to.”
I am a man who is many things for many people. One of the titles that I take the most pride in, is being a "big homie."
I'm honestly not even sure how those relationships start, but the little homies will always mean the world to me. There is some higher power that routinely brings people into my life who remind me a lot of myself at various stages of my life. A lot of the time, they are a young Black artist, a lot of times a poet, who might still be growing into their voice, their values, and their purpose.
One of the little homies turned 20 this week, and in response to my celebratory "welcome to your 20's" message, they asked "any advice for my 20s?"
I instantly went into a 7-minute nostalgia spiral. Here I was, in the "twilight" of my 20's, in my new apartment, starting a new job the next day, trying to figure out what advice I would give. 7 minutes isn't that long, but it is long enough to really marvel at what all can happen in 8 years' time. I turned 20 in April 2016, and at that juncture of my life:
I had hosted the 2nd ever Flexin' My Expression event, just 6 months after performing poetry for the first time ever.
I was finishing up my internship at UC San Diego's Black Resource Center.
I was still a year away from my brother coming home.
We were preparing for a milestone election (Spoiler Alert: A lot of people were upset).
I was preparing to enter my final year of undergrad at UC San Diego.
For some of you reading this, you understand the depth of significance of many of those bullet points. It is unbelievable how much has happened since then, and how much I have grown. With that in mind, I gave the little homie the following pieces of advice:
Who you are and what you value matters more than anything else.
Nothing is cooler than what you find cool.
If you think something is lame, it probably is.
Stay away from dumb [redacted].
Value connections you care about intentionally.
Make time for people you care about. Don't for people you don't.
I went on to think about that advice for the next hour. I told her that I was reflecting on it so much now, and she asked "how were your 20s?" WERE!?!?!?!?! Ouch.
After clarifying that I still had some 20's left on the clock, I told her that they were amazing. Lots of highs. Some devastating lows, but lots of highs. I think a lot of people can attest to that. There were times where it didn't feel like life could get any worse, and times where it felt like life couldn't get any better. I was wrong each of those times, for better and for worse.
The other day, an artist invited me into their home in the hills, and we had our first extended sit down conversation. We have known each other for years, and the energy has always been right what it needed to be, but this was our opportunity to talk. That artist shared with me that every time they saw me doing something, or interacting with people, they would think to themself "Yup. That's Kyler." That is the best affirmation anyone could give me. I have spent a lot of time in my young adulthood carving out this stoic persona, figuring out who I am, what I value, what I want, and what I need. The more life I experience, the more I realize how much I do not know. I had to give up that pursuit of perfectionism in the eyes of people not living my life, and instead, shifted focus to ensuring I was the most imperfectly perfect version of Kyler. For some people, that person is someone to be admired. For others, that person is an enigma. What matters to me, is that I am consistent in how I want my life to play out, being intentional in every single thing that I do.
If you are an old geezer like me, what advice would you give to someone entering their 20's? Comment below!
If You Feel It…
“Asgard is not a place. It’s a people.”
As I am writing this, the sun is setting over the Pacific in a starring role against a Tropical Punch sky backdrop. I have deep concern for anyone who only ever sees the sky as just “blue.”
8 years ago (the specific date is not relevant to the story), Black Xpression became a thing from a group of people with broken parts that fit together imperfectly enough to become something special. At the time, Caribbean Pleasures was located in Bonita, California, about an hour plus drive against traffic from UC San Diego. Every Friday though, I made that mission. Just to be there early enough to move a chair or two, and help contribute to the vibe. These were some of real people I had been searching all over San Diego for.
I came across some of those people through a leap of faith preceded by a series of coincidences that I am forever grateful for. Cambria and I host Flexin My Expression at UCSD, the feature, Shelley Bruce, brings her friend Amen Ra, and my my friend Sabrina was in attendance with her best friend Kai. Amen Ra performed one of the first spoken word pieces I had ever heard live and in person. I was inspired and talked to Kai about other places to hear poetry in San Diego. That brought me to Lyrical (Exchange!) where I performed The Introvert for the first time, which introduced me to people like Sakea, Kovu, Ebony, Jeff, and Ronnie.
As the universe had it, not too long after, every Friday night was dedicated to Black Xpression. It introduced me to so many artists that have grown to levels that I could only imagine, but would never surprise me. You walked into Black Xpression under the assumption you probably would witness a life changing performance from someone just trying to find their place in the world. My favorite thing though, there was space for every type of Black person to be whatever version of themselves was comfortable in that space.
If you are Black in San Diego long enough, someone will ask you “Where the Black people at???” Black Xpression introduced me to a lot of the true Black San Diego natives and culture. Is it going to be a perfect fit for everyone? Absolutely not; however, once you have experienced the space, you are no longer allowed to say you never see Black people in San Diego. Through Black Xpression, I have met Black people from so many different walks of life, and to date, only a very small percentage have been on the podcast thus far. I have so so so many more stories to come.
Dear UCSD…
From Gramercy with love…
“Part of the journey is the end.”
Around this time 11 years ago, I was 17-years-old packing up to go to college and move away from home for the first time. I might as well have been packing to Narnia with how much that transpired since then. In March 2013, UC San Diego sent me an email that would change the trajectory of my life forever. I had been accepted to (what I didn’t really internalize in the moment) one of the top institutions in the world. At the time, it was a consolation prize because Stanford had other plans, but it slowly began to evolve into a decision for the ages. I still remember the shock at Bishop Montgomery High School, when the [Black] kid who had been accepted to UC Berkeley and UCLA, chose to go to UC San Diego?!?
Fast forward to September 2013, I had fully moved into Marshall U-Building, and got my first Blackening on campus, walking around the suite and realizing not a single other Black person lived on that floor (Shout out to Cam downstairs though). I have people like Ashley, Arielsela, Andre, and Brilon to thank for making such a big institution feel a lot smaller, by getting to know other Black people on campus. Ashley walked all the way from Sixth to Marshall (before they were neighboring colleges) to hang out, Arielsela went with me to my first BSU meeting, Andre took on my Class of 2017 2k challenge, and Brilon… if y’all only knew how much of a big sister she was for me during that transition time, and continues to be to this day. I found my home away from home in the Matthews Apartments (Queen Jazzy's domain. I can’t keep y'all here all day talking about Jazzy) home of the wall of clown shit (among other infamous walls), people braiding hair, Alexis’ red beans & rice on the stove, and Flavor of Love on the TV. Those are the things I look back on most fondly when I think about finding community on campus. Black Women made my experience at UCSD. Out of every single job I had throughout 11 years on campus, a Black Woman was my direct supervisor, with the exception of my stint in Psychology for a year. I can’t tell my story without telling the stories of Black Women leaders, friends, femtors, and advocates that have crossed paths with mine.
Needless to say, not everything was sunshine and roses during that first 4 years on campus. The Blackening kept happening and happening… from protests, to demonstrations, micro and macroaggressions, imposter syndrome, being Black on that campus (and most college campuses) taught me many life lessons. Luckily, I eventually found my next home on campus at the Black Resource Center. The BRC was a consistent stop, multiple times a day, any day it was open. Stacia and Porsia were familiar voices of wisdom, guidance, and reassurance that I could be a beast at UCSD. I became an intern for them in 2015, and that is when the growth really took off. I brought Black artists to campus through Flexin’ My Expression, sat in numerous high-impact meetings with administrators trying to better campus for Black students to come, and just was getting my hands dirty, helping anyone that asked, and many who didn’t, just in the spirit of community.
I obviously came to college to get a degree, and am leaving campus with 2 of them, but my time on campus was so much more than that. When I was preparing for college, I had no idea what I wanted to study. I had no idea what I wanted to be “when I grew up.” Once I realized people would never stop asking me until I figured it out, I drafted a standard response was that I just wanted to make an impact and help people. Mission accomplished.
My first day as a full-time employee at UC San Diego was August 14, 2017. 7 years later, I am penning this as I have accepted a new position at a new institution to continue my professional career. People have asked me if I am “sad” about leaving, and I honestly struggle to find sadness in any of it. The relationships I have fostered during my time on campus extend far beyond being physically present there. Nostalgia will always have its place, but my roots needed a new pot - I know I still have plenty more flowers I need to bloom, and unfortunately, it could no longer happen in La Jolla.
If any one student learned any one thing from me during my time at UC San Diego, I hope it was that anything is possible on that campus if you want it enough, and tell the right person. I hope that even if they don’t know my full UCSD story, they know that I checked every corner, pulled up a chair at every table I could, and earned a level of respect on that campus that still has me in awe to this day.
I am the cockiest humble person you will ever meet, if you ever really get to know me. Throughout my time at UCSD, I told many people that I want a statue on campus. People laughed, and I wasn’t 100% serious, but I was 51%, and that is just because there are several humbler people I personally know who deserve that statue first.
Even if I never get that statue, when people ask you about people you know from UCSD, at least tell them the story about the kid from Gramercy Place who had no idea what he was going to do in college, but did it all anyway.
