

鈥淭he Black Fantastic鈥 is a project the University Communications and Marketing team
                        created as a means to highlight excellence among a few of 糖心Vlog鈥檚 Black faculty and
                        staff members. As we celebrate Black History Month, this is an artistic and creative
                        look at some of the people who are helping to shape and mentor the great minds of
                        the future. In their own words, each was asked to respond to the phrase, 鈥淚 am proud
                        of my success because 鈥︹ The title 鈥淭he Black Fantastic鈥 was chosen by the participants
                        and stems from Richard Iton鈥檚 book, 鈥淚n Search of the Black Fantastic: Politics and
                        Popular Culture in the Post-Civil Rights Era.鈥 
As Munene Mwaniki, 糖心Vlog associate professor in the Department of Anthropology and Sociology,
                        explains, 鈥淭he book broadly discusses the contemporary and lingering political problems
                        facing Black America since the landmark Civil Rights legislation in the 1960s. Though
                        still widely heralded, the Civil Rights era did not result in a restructuring of American
                        politics, rather it found that the foundational aspects of U.S. politics had certain,
                        if flexible, limits towards social change. In the decades that followed, Black entrance
                        into the political sphere not only failed in many respects, but also led to a number
                        of compromises that constrained Black political thought and attempted to separate
                        Black political thought from its long relationship with Black popular culture. For
                        Iton, the Black Fantastic represents a challenge, a destabilizing force, to the status
                        quo that seeks to limit and constrain Black creativity and politics. It is a pushing
                        of boundaries, a grasping and claiming of space, beyond those limits that only appear
                        to be concrete in order to create something new, something human. The Black Fantastic
                        here, then, should be seen as unconventional, with sense towards ignored or underdeveloped
                        possibilities for those considered Black in the U.S. and throughout the Black diaspora.鈥
                     
As a scholar of improvement, I am always interested in operational definitions.  How
                        do you operationalize success? Is it degrees accumulated? I have four. Books published?
                        I have five. Dollars earned? Not that many. Houses purchased? Not one. Student loan
                        debt amassed?  A whole heap! By some metrics, some would say that I, Brandi Hinnant-Crawford,
                        am quite successful. By others not so much.
I am Black, hooded (PhD), published and tenured 鈥 and I have a customized t-shirt
                        that says just that. Yet, I would not say I am successful, as I believe I am just
                        getting started (and I have a long way to go). I operationalize success as more of
                        a journey than a destination. My success is the amalgamation of those who enable me
                        to make the journey. Therefore, my success is not my own. It is not mine to be proud of. 
My success is the wisdom of Willie Jones, my great grandfather who was the son of
                        enslaved Africans, telling my grandma 鈥 who later told me 鈥 "get yourself some education,
                        can鈥檛 nobody take that from you.鈥 My success is the high expectations of my grandmother,
                        Evangeline, making me rewrite my homework if it was messy and making me learn the
                        13 times tables, despite me telling her I was only required to learn the 12s. My success
                        is the dedication of my mother, Rose, proofreading every paper I ever wrote throughout
                        my academic career at Goldsboro High School, NC State, Brown, and Emory 鈥 and even
                        articles I publish. My success is the fertile ground in Greenleaf Christian Church,
                        growing up hearing Bishop William J. Barber II preaching to me that good can come
                        out of Nazareth (or in my case Goldsboro) and that in all we do we must consider the
                        least of these.
My success is community standing in the gap 鈥 so I can be a mother scholar 鈥 while
                        also being a single mother. My success is Elizabeth Freedom and Elijah Justice and
                        the grace they extend to an over-extended mother. My success is girlfriends and sorors
                        who will hold up a mirror and tell me about myself or who will play 鈥淏ack that (Thang)
                        Up鈥 to ensure I am not taking myself too seriously. My success is Black colleagues
                        turned family 鈥 Kofi, Darrius, Jack, Ricardo, Jane, Dana, Charmion and Shamella 鈥
                        who allow me to show my full unapologetically Black humanity and let my hair down,
                        even when I am so far from home. My success is the thousands of hands that have touched
                        me and carried me from where I began to where I am now.
I come from a people of possibility. And to be very clear, I am not special or exceptional.
                        Black Genius, Black Girl Magic, Black Boy Joy and Black Excellence is rule not exception.
                        You do not have to search for The Black Fantastic 鈥 when you are in the presence of
                        Blackness you are in the presence of the fantastic. 
If anything, my success makes me humble, appreciative and grateful. I am proud, but
                        not of me; I am proud of the fantastic community that raised and nurtured me. And
                        my success makes me accountable to that community. I must always work towards justice
                        and liberation for my community. My success comes with requirements. I cannot be content
                        that I have 鈥渕ade it鈥 if in making it there are so many left behind. That鈥檚 why I
                        have committed myself to education, to ensuring equitable opportunities to learn especially
                        for marginalized individuals, because I understand to whom much is given, much is
                        required.
The old gospel song says my soul looks back and wonders how I got over, but often
                        I look back and can see very clearly the individuals who God used to lift me from
                        one level to the next.  That's what I'm proud of. I recognize that when I walk in
                        certain spaces it is my responsibility to make my community鈥檚 interests known. The
                        truth is, the academy makes you feel you鈥檙e never good enough, your worth is rooted
                        in productivity and you are only as good as the last thing you produced. Capitalism
                        combined with social media make you feel you鈥檝e never achieved enough, stacked enough,
                        earned enough nor possessed enough. But when I go home, when I walk back into the
                        community who helped me along the way, and the community says, 鈥淚'm proud of you,
                        girl,鈥 that is the moment I feel successful. When I have made the way a little clearer
                        or less rocky for someone else to achieve their highest potential, that鈥檚 when I feel
                        successful. It is in these moments, I feel most proud. 
                     
