Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Am I My Brother's Keeper

Like most little brothers, I grew up idolizing my big Bro. I wanted to be as quick, cute, strong, and charismatic as he was. I wanted to attract females that were as pretty as his girlfriends. In fact, I began loving the Lakers only because he loved Magic and Kareem. Because I was his little brother, I could walk through my neighborhood knowing I would not be touched. This excluded his friends that believed the dumb ass notion that they could beat me up to make me tougher in the future. But for everyone else...hands off Baby Bro! Oh yeah, that dumb ass notion may have proven to be true.


The story sounds sweet so far, doesn't it? One would think its all good, right? Unfortunately for me, things changed pretty quickly at this point. Life as I knew it, for the entire ten years of my life, changed drastically. My brother left me. He moved three states away. I hated him for that. How could my mom allow this? Why didn't grandma stop this from happening? Why wasn't my opinion asked? It wasn't until many years later that I finally understood sometimes a young unprepared mother and an angry confused son is a recipe for disaster. I get it. I actually do understand. But still...that wasn't fair to me. I was at a funny age. A preteen in Jamaica Queens when crack was at its peak. Who would I learn the code of the streets from? Like many other black boys in my neighborhood, a big brother was the closest substitute for the commonly absent father. Damn, I started out with a father and big brother...what happened? Why did both of them leave me?


Fast forward to my High School years. I'm sure you've heard the saying "it will get worse before it gets better." No truer words were ever spoken (or written). Not only was my brother six hours away now, but then he decides to join the military. WTF! How could this happen? When I heard this news I immediately thought of Furious Styles telling Tre (Boyz In The Hood) that the "army ain't no place for a black man." As he was preparing to leave for the Gulf War, I was preparing for more senseless trouble here in New York. I now know I was simply angry, confused, and hurt. Tupac had become my idol. Negativity filled the void left by my brother. I started repeating F*&k the world at every opportunity, and I actually meant it. This is when I needed a big brother the most. Mischief and meaningless trouble began consuming much of my time.


Fast forward to his return. Yes, he's back. Several years later, but he's back. This is great, isn't it? Well, lets see. I've already had my first few fights. I've already "touched" my first girl. Damn, I even already experienced escaping the long arm of the law. I don't know what I need my big brother for now. He hasn't been around enough to teach me how to get over on mom and the other stuff I learned by trial and error. In fact, I found myself telling him how to keep mom off of his back. As he attempted to acclimate to the real world again and began his job search, I was in a position to offer some financial assistance. Having been forced to mature quickly, I understood then how difficult it must have been to accept anything from a little brother and more important, his one time biggest fan.


Fast forward to recent years. To avoid tears, not yours but mine, I'll keep this section's summary brief. My brother made me an uncle by having three children. My relationship with his children has brought us closer and been the root of some tough battles. I've often felt that my brother and I each felt, at different times, we were our brother's keeper. During this one sided post, I didn't mention the time I got jumped by some dudes and my brother arrived prepared to make sure they never ever jumped anyone again. I also neglected to mention his willingness to take a charge for me in an attempt to keep me out of "the system". Oh yeah, I also forgot to mention the time his gift of gab allowed me to spend some quality time with a woman I'd otherwise have no shot with.


In the past I felt the pressure involved with being my brother's keeper. I now realize why I have been. However, what I didn't realize is that in a weird way he can also say he has been my keeper. Maybe not directly, but there is very little doubt that our relationship has helped shape my personality. It is said that different people play different roles in the life of others. As the years pass so do the clouds that once blurred my vision of my past. I have yet to fully understand why our relationship has involved so many bumps and bruises (literally), but I have realized that they were necessary. I may regret admitting this to the world, but...I love you Big Bro.