What Does Becoming Woke Feel Like?
Taking the Red Pill: A Personal Reflection on the Transformation of Becoming Woke after changing major to film
When I was 19 years old, I had a transformation that I couldn’t have predicted or even made up. It slapped me so hard that when I caught myself, I was somewhere else permanently, never again returning to the state of mind I had once known. This was my process of becoming “woke.”
I hear the word “woke” thrown around so much now that it is completely diluted of its original value. What does woke even mean? I created Woke Dancer as a way to take back that word for myself and how I believe becoming woke has shaped the woman I have become. To be woke – to me – is to acknowledge a universal consciousness of spirits while realizing the pragmatic nature of human existence. It’s duality; it’s perspective’ it’s Black; the constant growth of knowledge. We become woke when we have the ability to see things as they are within and outside yourself, and that everything is everything; that what we see and don’t see is in each of us. It’s our light, and our darkness.
I wrote Essential Life Tips for Black People Everywhere Forever at the very beginning of my revelations in life. After writing that piece, my life went into a whirlwind of new ideas, thoughts, people, and beliefs. That was one of the biggest transformations I’ve had in my life thus far. I finally stood up for myself. After a long, hard-working summer of being undervalued and tormented by my previous manager, I quit. I started some multi-level marketing scheme instead, so I could “work for myself,” vowing never to work retail again.
Well, I made a quick $300 and sailed back into my Sophomore year at Howard University, forgetting how scammy and tiresome that scheme actually was. I hustled my way into an easy work study job in my department. Then, I joined my first student film set to complement my brand new curriculum as a film major. I all but lost my mind – in the best way.
It was on those student film sets that I learned the power of a plan, of hustling, of starting low to reach higher heights. I learned that you could work smarter, not harder. The power of doing the stuff you don’t want to do for the sake of the plan to get what you wanted, not realizing that the journey was the best part.
I learned about mythology and philosophy, Black works of art, the original Black power with the Moors, indie film from a D.C. local and also Howard film student that changed my life, adventure, D.C. culture. My first year at Howard was a blur and a financial storm with a business major I didn’t appreciate.
It was in my second year that I met so many types of Black people: from wealthy Jack and Jills, legacy kids, immigrants, pan-africanists, to confident and dapper nerds, film buffs, dancers, and fashion designers. No more seeing my friends from my block getting locked up, killed or pregnant; or simply a shitty 9-5. Or worse. Before my experience at Howard, that was all that I saw. Howard had become my Black Wonderland, and I’d officially fallen down the hole. I realized that life before this was nothing. Less than nothing, and that this new reality was everything I never knew I needed.
I also experienced my first love – in the form of a spiritual awakening and passionate rollercoaster that ended in unrequited heartbreak. It was in those moments that I realized that love was inherently unconditional, or at least should be. Even when you feel they’ve done you so wrong, grace is love. It is to see that everyone deserves love, and we all have the capacity for good and evil. We are not better nor worse than anyone else. Unconditional love for everyone is one of the hardest, but most rewarding parts of my journey.
It took awhile for my spiritual awakening to catch up with my mental and physical one. I had opened my mind to new thoughts and perspectives through hella books, attaining more money that I had ever seen in my bank account, and writing, directing and watching films religiously. And lots of dancing with myself. I had shown myself that I don’t have to work a regular job to be successful and I could have complete agency over my own body, wearing my hair out and wild for the first time, with colorful pants and crop tops and vintage jackets my grandma gave me. I fell in love with myself. That to me is an important element of wokeness; realizing your own existence in this world, and falling in love with that.
The reason I say it took awhile for my spiritual awakening is because it was always easy to work and plan, and think and feel. It was harder for me to stay still, and listen to what my spirit had to say. It took me years to become as consistent as I am now with meditation, gratitude, chakras, praying, affirmations, crystals, spirituality, etc. I’m still learning, and I continue to learn.
I’ve recently started shadow work, and it’s been showing me parts of myself that transcend any mental knowledge I’ve acquired thus far. I believe another critical component of this wokeness is your detachment from physical beings, and the realization of spiritual energy. Meditating is a way to come close to that energy, and let go of physical restraints temporarily. The spiritual journey is forever. It’s uncomfortable, but necessary.
When I opened my eyes at 19, I also had another very good friend who asked just as many questions as I did, and allowed me to see that my dreams were too small, and that I didn’t have to hold myself back from the biggest dreams in my spirit. I saw what I wanted out of my life, future family, future husband, my dream career, my deepest wanderlust desires, and what would satisfy me. Even in this person’s circumstances, they allowed me to talk about the inner works of my new mind extensively through writing and pictures. What business do we have opening our minds if we cannot share it with those we care about. It was to allow someone into my mind and spirit, and not just my body.
After the dust began to settle, I saw more clearly that being woke to me is inherently Black. When you ask the right questions about yourself, you realize not that your world is different – we know this – but that the tools and articulation to figure how it became different in the first place can change your life and every other Black person’s life around you. How did we become Black people after being Negroes, Niggers, and Coloreds? What does this make us now? What will we become after being Black? Will we transcend, or just feel like the same old thing?
Wokeness is firm disillusionment. When the history of your skin tone comes to head with the diaspora and your culture, and you feel stuck between history and the present. Being “woke” isn’t a look, or a way of speaking, or even beliefs. It is simply a state of mind, as I’ve always thought. So, I reject hotep men and women as wokeness – the ones wearing dashikis and calling Black people “Kings and Queens,” and calling Africa “the Motherland” as if it isn’t an entire continent. I digress. Because no one really wants to be woke when their eyes open; they simply cannot go back to the limited way of thinking before. Ignorance no longer is bliss because you see things exactly how they are – and you see them outside of yourself for maybe the first time in your life.
So to me, when you become woke, it feels like a Rabbit Hole. One that at first glance, seems exciting and new. But over time, as you start to ascend your perspective, you may even become disillusioned with what you’re seeing, and then realize that becoming woke is not a destination. Oftentimes, it makes no sense at all how all of these little actions and experiences can cause your mind to spill over into new and unfamiliar territory. It just does. Being woke doesn’t make any logical sense; it just is.
I believe the most interesting part about claiming myself as woke is that wokeness to me is so different from wokeness to someone else, and yet when you step outside of the realm of hotep wokeness, it all seems to blend together magically. All these little things and experiences for me might do nothing to someone else. That’s the beauty in the journey. This is my story.
Now you might be asking – well HOW do I become woke? The answer is in the question, so let your mind just start there.
Tags: film, film major, Black power, Blackness, woke dancer, black film
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