A Fine Piece of Chocolate

A Fine Piece of Chocolate:
Righteous Sistas Crossing Over to the Wild Side
There comes a time when one has to take stock of their life circumstances and ask, “how did I arrive here?” It was an initial rush, being away at college. Ohio State University, with its diverse student body and campus activity, was a far cry from the Sumpter Houses of Newark, New Jersey. Although Gloria and Kim had a mom-daughter relationship that many would envy, based upon genuine respect and camaraderie, nothing, but nothing could compare with living away from home.
It is so important to choose one’s friend’s wisely. Living in close quarters with an individual who’s upbringing and life choices are the polar opposite of the values that you were born with presents a challenge, particularly if the sheltered individual did not have to make contrasting choices while they were in the sheltered environment. Let us examine Arneatha’s character.
Arneatha is a friendly young woman who can pull others to her like a magnet. Growing up in an environment where she saw too much too soon and learned that adults, particularly the ones responsible for her safety were not to be trusted, led her to develop a rebellious, self reliant streak. In her words, “my mom and dad, they weren’t really mom and dad in the traditional sense. They were cut ups. Mom was crazy and had to be hospitalized twice. Dad tried to play dad when he was home. I’m not sure if all my sisters and brothers at home were dad’s kids. My mom went out with Willie, the number runner, who gave her food money when the month was too long for the money. Willie couldn’t be trusted, though; he tried reaching for my titties one time when I was eleven and I smacked him and ran away. I think he was shocked that I had such nerve at such a young age.”
Kim (watching Arneatha smoking a cigarette across from her in the dorm room), “Arnie; aren’t you scared the matron will smell that cigarette and put you on probation?”
“What?? Are you serious? Kim, I got big time issues you know nothing of. Following rules? Which rules? Who makes the rules? Oops, I forgot. Church girl! Gotta follow the rules. (mocking tone)
Kim shriveled inside at the hurtful tirade. While believing in the righteous way, she didn’t want to be ostracized and singled out negatively by somebody so worldly wise. Quickly, Kim shifted the topic to the upcoming African American Student Union dance. “Anyway, what do you think you’ll be wearing? Girl, I know you’ll be styling and profiling. Arneatha, (smiling, mood swiftly changing). “Yeah, you know that’s right. Think you’ll be going ?”
Kim- “I’m not sure, buy yeah, I might go.”
Arneatha- “Don’t you usually meet with that Fisherman’s Club on Friday nights?”
Kim- “Oh, you mean the Fisher of Men Club. Yeah, we meet about twice a month. I think I might check out the AASU dance.
Arneatha- “Yeah, go ahead, I know the sisters can break loose in the spirit. My aunt took me and my sisters to Southern Baptist every now and then. Nobody could move like a sister in the Holy Ghost.
(Fast forward to the night of the dance).
Several of Arneatha’s friends stopped by the dorm at 6PM for an early dinner of General Tso’s chicken and lo mein. Kim feigned a smile at their loudness and boisterous discussions of their encounters with their boyfriends, and what women they had to put in place. While she thought she could cram some last minute studying for the philosophy midterm on comparative religions, that thought was quickly scrapped over the din of noise from the raucous laughter.
Smoke from the curling filled the room, along with the cigarettes that Arneatha and Lavonne kept smoking. While not a smoker herself, Kim offered a couple of saucers for use as ashtrays. “After all, (Kim reasoned to herself) why not make friends of friends comfortable? “ The girls continued to exchange gossip on who was hooking up on campus, who thought they were cool with their man but was really getting played. Kim wondered to herself, when ever did they have time to study, but then the focus shifted to Arneatha’s wardrobe. The girls oohed and aahed when Arneatha pulled out the black monochromatic leggings set by DKNY. The knockoff Tacori gem necklace provided a striking contrast against Arneatha’s mahogany colored skin, along with the floral I.N.C. dress.
Meanwhile, Kim pulled from her wardrobe the Donna Karan jeans and ruffled blouse with a slight cleavage, along with the knee high boots that Gloria gave her last winter (a safe choice) she thought to herself. Arneatha, after studying Kim’s choice of outfit stated, “Kim, that’s OK, but I have something that can really hook you up. “But”, Kim protested, “this is cool.” Arneatha suggested something cooler still. (Ignoring Kim’s protest), “Lavonne, get that dress, you and Kim are the same size.” Lavonne quickly obliged and went back to her dorm room, returning 30 minutes with a spaghetti strap floral print above the knee. “Now, try this one on girl. Trust me, I know how to hook you up.” (Turning to Bridgette), “Bridgette, you’re the curling iron queen, hook her up now. (To Kim) “Trust me, I know how to hook a sista up. “

Kim sat in mute amazement as Bridgette parted her hair, zigzag style, and then worked her magic with the curling wax and the curling iron. Upon changing into the spaghetti strap mini, and seeing her new ‘do in the mirror after Bridgette was done styling her hair, Kim jumped up and down and screeched, “wow! Thanks a million Bridgette,” and gave her a big hug. “Kim,” (said Arneatha) show what you got! Nothing wrong with that, right? Go ahead church girl. Ha ha I’m only playing.”
“Absolutely stunning!” Kim thought to herself, amazed at the transformation. It was a bit more skin than what Gloria would have approved of. College becomes a place where, on your own, choices are so numerous and opportunity beckons like a finger. Being a young adult with a strong academic mind and upbringing offers some protection however college is still a place where peer pressure can and does rule. Choices build one on top of the other until they bring a person to their present place.
(Setting at the dance)
At the dance, young people from all over the African diaspora collected in the common space called Blaine Hall, sporting locks, perms, warrior haircuts. “What up, Kim?” Tyriek high fived her. He was the friendlier of the twin brothers in Kim’s biology class. Soon, Kim became aware of a slight, pungent odor in the room. “Weed”, she thought. (Evil communication corrupts good manners”), a verse from Proverbs that Gloria often quoted to Kim. Nevertheless, Kim got swept up in the atmosphere of music. The DJ played a combination of old school R&B, today’s R&B and gangsta rap. He was a talented master mixer. Becoming aware of the glances from some of the young men on the dance floor as Kim danced to her own beat, she observed all the fashion statements, from haute couture to damn near naked. Welcome to the 21st century.
Soon, the DJ played a set of slow jams. Kim stood at the outer edge of the dance floor, watching couples slowly grinding as Aretha crooned, “Ain’t no way for me to love you. Slim, with his bulging biceps and Stacy Adams shoes asked, in his baritone voice, “may I have this dance?” similar to the way guys asked girls to dance when Gloria was coming up, Kim thought. Slim held her close until she could feel his bulging manhood. (Gloria’s voice: don’t be easy. Put value on yourself and don’t follow the crowd). Kim wanted to pull away from him, but instead, rested in him and let him hold her.