STUDIO83

For many young black urbanites, where you're from and where you live
right now are two completely different worlds. While this is going to
be our life for the foreseeable future, I often wonder how many of us
would proudly trace our roots (or take our larney friends back to
these) as proudly as we flash our cars, gadgets, pads, labels? In
fact, are we not using these accessories as a way to overcompensate
for where we come from - hiding our backgrounds at the back of those
Gucci-flled; Prada-spilling; Louis Vuitton blinging closets, never
ever to be revealed the world? One inevitable question for me is the
funeral: out of all your friends, who would you invite to go to your
funeral, held at your mother's modest house or shack in the township,
home to your seven nieces and nephews, your grandmother, your aunts
and their wayward husbands?  Are we so far gone to where we're going
that we've forgotten (or are ashamed of) where we come from?