ONE NATION, UNDER GOD
A letter from RMS Founder, Percussion Educator, and Social Worker (MSW), Jonathan Wicks:
To my percussion family, I decided to share some words about my personal experiences in America. While many organizations, companies, and individuals have expressed their sentiments in support of Black Lives, I felt I could do the same by sharing my own journey thus far, in my own Black Life.
All that being said, my words are not meant to incite division, anger, or blame - but more so to show just how pervasive racism can be in our seemingly “equal” society. So please, read them with an open heart and an open mind.
Much love.
Pre-Show
This is my story. I chose to write it as if it was a show of the arts. The reality? It’s not a show - it’s my experience so far in my melanated body, but I wanted to write it in a format that most of you who will read it, are familiar with. No pity is needed, nor wanted. I’m merely offering some perspective on just another experience in America for an African-American, and just like some designers do what they want without thinking about what the judges will say, I live my life the same way, regardless of the racism. With no further ado, the Universe is proud to present:
“My Black Experience in America”
Opener
For my family, I was child number 5, born in Pasadena, California in 1987. At the time, my family lived in Los Angeles - Compton, California to be exact. I don’t remember much about that home, because we moved when I was only one year old. From what my parents told me, many African-American families began to move out of Los Angeles due to the increasing gang violence. We resettled in Ontario, California, and I lived there nearly my entire life. When I was in the first grade, my European-American teacher recommended I be put in Special Education classes. Thankfully, my parents were wise enough to move me to the other elementary school in the district across town. Because of that move, I did not fully grow up with the children in my very own neighborhood, thanks to my teacher’s recommendation.
In the second grade, at my new school, I won the Young Author’s Award, and I got to present my book at the Young Author’s District Award Ceremony. In the third grade, my science project was selected to compete on the district level. See - I had each family member blow air into a ballon after taking just one deep breathe; I then fastened and taped each balloon to my science board and called it: a measure of lung capacity according to age. I guess I was kinda special! No thanks to my teacher’s recommendation.
Transition
I continued to be an honor roll student for all of my scholastic days. In junior high, I was the assistant drum major for the marching band. In high school, I was the drum captain and co-captain on the varsity basketball team. I was even on the golf team. I was on the National Honor Roll, and even featured in “Who’s Who Among American High School Students.” I graduated high school with a 3.9 GPA and headed to UC Irvine for my undergraduate degree.
Ballad
While at UC Irvine, I attended a party once in Yorba Linda, California with a friend from campus. It was her home town, so she was excited for me to meet her friends. Doing what most college kids do, we prepared to take some shots. When I went to pick up my shot glass, I noticed it had a confederate flag on it. As I looked up, a small group of her European-American “friends” stood giggling as they watched my response. I left the party.
Another time in college, I was headed back to Irvine from Ontario. If you know anything about the drive, it takes several freeways to make the trip. A motorcycle cop rode in front of me, well below the speed limit and flow of traffic around me, for three freeways. When I got to the third freeway, I finally made the decision to go around him. He pulled me over for speeding and gave me a ticket. He said, “I tried to give you a chance, but you just wanted to race.”
Another time while I was still in college, I was back home in Ontario for the weekend. I was driving home from my best friend’s house, and I got pulled over. The officer’s first question when he approached my car was, “When is the last time you were in jail?” I was shocked and replied that I was in college. His response? “So - it does not mean you have never been arrested.” He let me go with no consequence, but the emotional experience was plenty.
I graduated from UC Irvine with a degree in Cognitive Psychology. I even managed to help publish research out of the UCI Visual and Perception Neuroimaging Laboratory, under the guidance of Principal Investigator, Emily Grossman, PhD. You can check it out in MIT’s Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience. But before any of that happened, the University called me a week before graduation to tell me that they were not going to give me my degree, all because I was “missing a class” and would not be awarded my degree without it. I fought all summer to prove that the school was in error, and their oversight was not my fault. Eventually, I was victorious and they gave me my degree; they also changed the school’s paperwork that created the situation. Maybe it wasn’t a black thing, but a college thing.
Drum Solo
I graduated that year and spent the next four years as a gigging percussionist. I did a gig once in Phoenix, Arizona. I had another gig lined up in Los Angeles for the day I was to fly home from Arizona. My Mexican-American wife, who was my girlfriend at the time, was picking me up from LAX to take me straight to Staples Center for my second gig; the schedule was basically perfect pending everything went smoothly. When I got outside to the pick up area, I could see she was getting hassled by the airport cop. You see, I had luggage and drums so she was waiting for me to come back with the rest of the equipment. As I walked up with the drums, he was telling her we needed to move. I sat one of the drums down and explained to him that I had to make multiple trips, and this is why she was waiting. He looked down at the drum case, which was now touching his foot, and accused me of “throwing the drum at him to assault him.” I can’t make this stuff up!
I moved the drum into the car and explained to him that I was on a tight schedule and needed to leave so, either give us a ticket or let us go. Thankfully, another officer came and talked him into letting us go. BUT - before my lady could pull away, the angry cop stood in front of her car, arms crossed. She looked at me and asked, “What do we do?” I told her to drive around him, and when she did, he jumped in front of the car, and then aggressively yelled, “Did you just try to run me over? That is attempted vehicular manslaughter!” Again - I can’t make this stuff up. Luckily, the other officer was still close by, and pulled him away and let us drive off. I made it to the gig in time.
I was fortunate enough to go to Osaka, Japan and perform as a Universal Studios Japan (USJ) entertainer. Even in Japan, my experience was different than others. I remember going out on free days and people asking me if I was (RIP) Kobe Bryant? Michael Jordan? It was interesting to say the least. During rehearsals for the show, I can’t tell you how many times I was roasted for not being “Black enough.” C’mon - all Black people can dance and cut a rug, right? It took me awhile to be deemed worthy as a performer on that contract, and I’m thankful for the push I got to be a better entertainer - but having my ethnicity used to “inspire” me is something I will not forget. It made me think of all the times people called me a “White Boy” because I did well in school, or because I talked with some clarity to my words. You know - “not Black enough” as if there is some magical script we all live by, playing the same character as the last scene. Quite often, people tried to lump me into the same category as the next African-American male, which totally strips a person of their right to be an individual. We’re not all the same, and that’s okay - or is it?
Closer
I did not want to pursue a PhD in cognitive neuroscience, although the opportunity certainly presented itself. What I did want to do is help people. Without that decision, I may not have founded Rudimental Mindset. That decision to help others also pushed me to become a clinical social worker, and right now I’m only about 500 hours away from being a Licensed Clinical Social Worker in the state of California. I currently serve families in one of the largest domestic violence programs in Los Angeles County, and it is an amazing gift and opportunity to be able to serve those that really need the support and resources. I would not change my journey for anything, and I’m thankful that I can relate to the abuse our clients have been exposed to. Not because I have enjoyed being abused myself, but because I can hear them.
I too have been in an abusive relationship, and America has been my abuser. Yet and still, just like I tell my clients - I am lucky to be alive, just like they are lucky to be alive and find themselves in our domestic violence program. Of course, some people have suffered way more than I have, just as some people experience more severe forms of domestic violence. No matter how you look at it, abuse is abuse and it’s something that needs to be eliminated, and can be eliminated, if we continue to educate ourselves and speak up.
2020 has been one crazy year, but something I have been waiting for since 2012. Why since 2012? Because in 2012, Trayvon Martin was murdered and that was the last time I can remember truly being rocked to the core by the death of yet another melanated body. Since then, and before then, there have been countless Black lives lost; some for no reason other than living while Black. So many lives, we could not list all the names, but one thing is for sure - being Black in America is real. It’s as real as all the stories I’ve shared, and as real as the many stories you may have heard from people that sound far fetched, made up, or down right false. What does it all mean? Besides giving you a reason to check your own biases - I don’t know.
What I do know is - being Black in America is real.
Surprise Outro
Check out these individuals on YouTube if you want to learn. Just search their names:
Dr. Claud Anderson
Dr. Joy DeGruy
Ta-Nehisi Coates
James Baldwin
Full Retreat
And in last place…
