Category Archives: race

Are Black Students At Duke Pissed For The Right Reason?

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I majored in sociology and I'm still gonna make more money than you pretty soon, white man.

I came across this article at Clutch Mag yesterday entitled, “Black Students at Duke Upset Over New Study Claiming They Take The Easy Way Out” that linked to a Durham, NC, Herald-Sun article about a study that pissed of Black folks from near and far. In a nutshell, two Duke professors and a grad student wrote a paper stating that Black students at Duke changed majors from more traditionally difficult majors like economics, engineering, and natural sciences to less rigorous majors (like humanities) at a higher rate than did white students. The paper was an attempt to explain why the GPAs of Black students tended to trend towards the GPAs of white students as ninjas made their way through college and is being used as a bone for opponents of affirmative action policies.

Oy vey.

The unpublished report, “What Happens After Enrollment? An Analysis of the Time Path of Racial Differences in GPA and Major Choice,” looked at the Duke freshman classes that matriculated in 2001 and 2002, in their first, second and fourth years of college.

It found that among students who initially expressed an interest in majoring in economics, engineering and the natural sciences, 54 percent of black men and 51 percent of black women ended up switching to the humanities or another social science.

By comparison, 33 percent of white women and just 8 percent of white men made the switch to majors that are considered less rigorous, require less study and have easier grading standards.

According to the paper, 68 percent of Duke’s black students but less than 55 percent of white students ended up majoring in the humanities or social sciences other than economics.

The authors of the paper suggested that the switch to easier majors was predominantly responsible for why the grade point averages of black undergraduates ultimately became similar to the GPAs of white students as they progressed through school.

The paper is included in a brief submitted to the U.S. Supreme Court by opponents of affirmative action. The court is considering whether to hear a lawsuit challenging race-conscious undergraduate admission at the University of Texas.

 

The fact that any professor intensely intrigued and/or troubled by the fact that Black student GPAs were similar to white student GPAs is problematic enough. But to take it to the next level to prove that basically Black students (and legacy kids, interestingly enough) were stepping on their cocaine to make it through is just a gotd*mn shame.
However, I’m choosing to take my feelings out of this and going to attempt to look at this somewhat objectively. And my reason is because of this line, the constant rally cry of any and all things that involve race by us, the Black people:
[Nina] Asante (president of Duke’s Black Student Alliance) wrote that the authors failed “to account for the societal, complex and institutional factors that must be considered in any attempt to delineate trends in racial differences in grade point averages and major choices, in a scholarly manner.”
I am admittedly jaded but I read that to say, “unless you have a section in your study about how slavery and the persistent effects of institutional racism f*cked us the f*ck up then your whole paper, study, and lifespace is fugazi, b*tch.”
Which, while true, does tend to obscure what are, well, facts. Look, I went to an HBCU with a stellar science program in physics and biology and a great dual degree engineering program with Georgia Tech. But let’s be real, the majority of majors at Morehouse were business. And I’m not sh*tting on business majors, but it is what it is. That was like our catchall if you couldn’t hack it in the STEM majors. And a lot of people did make that switch. I myself chose economics with a math concentration because I specifically didn’t want to feel like I was shortchanging myself. But you better believe, we had a non-math economics option and the majority of econ majors took that road.
What does that have to do with the price of dental dams at Spelman? Nothing. But if Duke is the academically rigorous school that its purported to be, and Morehouse isn’t (no shots, and if you take shots at the ‘House I’m 404 you’re whole life son) and we have a preponderance of ninjas who make the switch, then what are we complaining about at Duke? Are we mad that the story is out there or that we can’t hack it?
Look, I know the public education system that the majority of us will have to use isn’t top notch. But that’s probably largely in the inner city where it seems like most of us aren’t exactly coming from anymore. And I’d bet money that most of the Black students at Duke aren’t exactly coming from southeast DC, the south Bronx, the west side of Atlanta, or Compton. Most are probably suburban children and/or private school kids. So their education is probably better than what a lot of us received at various stages (except for you bougie ninjas). Yet and still, many of us can’t hack it.
Now, if you ask me, that’s the study that needs to be looked into. When you control for socio-economic status, are these same Black students not able to cut the mustard? If not, are we going to blame racism and slavery for that? And that’s a real question. Seeing as Duke is a private school and considered an elite institution, I’m guessing their application process is itself more rigorous and they are accepting students who would likely meet a higher education standard. This is my assumption. Anybody can feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.
So what the hell is really going on then? I’m not insisting that that Black students aren’t as smart. Far from it. But perhaps some of these students learned a lesson that I learned at Morehouse really early on: game the system. The goal is to graduate. So maybe some of these ninjas are taking the path to least resistance and banking on the school attached to the degree to be able to take them far. Hell, isn’t that what many white people do anyway? Just because those white students aren’t changing majors doesn’t mean they’re excelling either. So if I’m beasting out with my English degree with a 3.9 and you’ve got a 2.7 in biology, and we all know that grad schools and the like care about your GPA, then perhaps I will feel like I’m winning.
I don’t know. And I don’t like the implication behind that either. Maybe we can blame hip-hop and this hustler mentality of dong what you need to do to get where you think you’re trying to go. Or maybe a lot of those kids don’t want to be STEM majors anyway (whole other discussion about that) and are thinking business and wall street or what most of us do…law school. Which if I’m not mistaken, wouldn’t require a STEM degree.
My point here is that while there are probably other factors involved, playing the slavery card (how I’m reading it) isn’t probably accurate. Maybe playing the “I get money, I-I get money” card is. Which means that some of those protests might be a bit ill advised. I can understand why Black people are up in arms. On its face, it sounds messed and politically motivated, but that doesn’t mean that what they’re stating didn’t happen. We just don’t like the implications behind it, even if maybe, just maybe, they’re accurate.
The paper’s authors — professors Peter Arcidiacono and Kenneth Spenner, and graduate student Esteban Aucejo — write that their work calls into question other studies that play down the academic difficulties initially experienced by those who benefit from race-conscious admissions by saying that such students eventually catch up with their nonminority peers in GPA.
Just wanted to add that I do think the authors here have some racial issues of their own to deal with (and I’m aware that Duke has a somewhat sordid history of racial issues in general).Clearly they’re not proponents of affirmative action, except their inability to see the forest for the trees (as academics) is a bit scary because at the end of the day, we DO end up with a lot more minorities with degrees which is better for society. Like your point was to intentionally disprove any benefit from race-conscious admissions without acknowledging that it might be harder to get into these schools than actually graduate? Sitchoazzdown.
But forget their reasons, and back to the actual findings. What say you? Thoughts?
Should we be mad about these findings? Should we be protesting studies like this? Or should we acknowledge that there’s truth there and then determine what the solution is, should one be necessary? Are these folks just not on our level?
Inquiring minds would like to know.
Sorry for the length. Heheheheh.
-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. YOUR STUDY IS FUGAZI EVEN IF ITS TRUE SON aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

I’m Not Ashamed: That Ignant Sh*t We’re Not Afraid To Like

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Although yesterday’s “Things Bougie Black Girls Say”¹ may have implied otherwise, I don’t have anything against them at all. In fact, I’d say that the vast majority of the 25 to 35 year old women I’m close to qualify. Many of my homegirls are Thai-loving Deltas, and how else would I know that Target makes bougie black girls squirt without being in the room while it happens?

Also — and I’m sure this admission won’t shock anyone reading this — I’m (somewhat) bougie myself.  Brunch is my favorite meal, I too find myself asking “Wait, who else is going?” whenever I’m invited somewhere, and while I won’t join you at the Smiling Banana Leaf, I won’t think twice about dropping 25 bucks for a gourmet cheeseburger.

Despite this bougieness, there are a few particularly anti-bougie things I just can’t get enough of — sh*t that’s about as legitimately tacky, gaudy, uncouth, ignant, and, gasp, ratchet as one can get. I wouldn’t call them guilty pleasures either, because there’s absolutely no guilt involved, no shame in my game. I like it, and if you don’t like the fact that I like it, you can like deez.

This list includes…

Rick Ross

I know his subject matter is about as varied as the skin tones of the crowds at Rick Santorum rallies, and I know his incessant grunting, “uhhh”-ing, and “whooo!!!”-ing occasionally makes it feel like I’m listening to a warthog masturbate, but I can’t deny the fact that his music makes me repeat things like “I levitate on all you p*ssy n*ggas” to myself while waiting in line at Au Bon Pain.

Also, he actually is a good rapper. Panama mentioned this to me a year or so ago and I scoffed at him, but he actually does check all the cadence, word play, and “beatrideability” boxes you’d want.

(Btw, with both Twinkie and Maybach going under within days of each other, isn’t Rick Ross having the worst week ever?)

The Twerk Team, and various other strippers, pseudo porn stars, and kitchen sink twerkers on YouTube and WorldStarHipHop

You ever happen to view some video of some random hoodrat bootyclapping in her bathroom, see that the vid has like 400,000 views, and wonder “Who the hell are these 400,000 people that sit around and watch videos like this all day?”

I’m not saying I’m one of those people, but, well, I’m just not saying that I’m one of those people.

Kool-Aid

Yes, I know it’s nothing but water, sugar, compressed paint chips, and asbestos. Yes, I know that too much of it will give me the gout or the diabeetis. And yes, I know “Hey, you want some Kool-Aid?” makes bougie black girl’s panties drier than KG’s lips.

But, there’s no other beverage that manages to go well with hotcakes, hotdogs, and hangovers alike, and the Kool-Aid test — Can you make a half gallon pitcher without looking at the directions? — is my version of the bougie black girl’s passport test.

American Muscle Cars

My love for Chargers is well-documented, but I don’t think that linked article fully encapsulates my infatuation. Let’s put it this way: You ever play the “what would you buy?” game, where you’re asked what car you’d purchase first if you had an unlimited income? (Btw, if this sentence urges you to leave a comment talking about how we’ll never rise as a people as long as we keep talking about spending money on the white man’s chariot, please quell that urge, and please go stick your head in a toilet and flush it)

Well, while my first choice is usually the Panamera, my second choice is usually “You know, I’d probably just buy a 700 horse power engine and put in my car.” Who cares if this choice shows that my imagination game is on “comatose,” and who gives a damn that the only time I’d actually be able to use the extra horses is when I’m speeding through a yellow light on the way to Trader Joe’s. That’s what I want, if you still have an issue with it, we can meet outside after brunch and “settle” our disagreement.

That’s enough ignance and ratchetrey for me. People of VSB, we already know that you negroes skew bougie, so list some decidedly non-bougie things that you’re not afraid or ashamed to admit that you like.

¹Thought you all might like to know that not only did “Shit Bougie Black Girls Say” have the most unique visits in VSB history, it beat the next closest entry by 17,000. I guess the bougie nerve is quite sensitive. 

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

Shit Bougie Black Girls Say

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The bougie black girl's patron saint

Unless you’ve been hiding under a rock or one of Rick Ross’ breasts for the past month, you’ve undoubtedly seen, read, or heard about “Shit Girls Say” and the dozens of increasingly contrived spin-offs it’s spawned. (Seriously, at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if went on YouTube and saw “Shit Gay German-Ethiopian Boys Say To Baltimore Strip-Club Bouncers”)

As a friend and I were discussing these videos earlier in the week, she half-jokingly complained that no one made a video about things her demographic — the biracial woman — says. I corrected her, saying that “Shit Bougie Black Girls Say” would definitely be more appropriate for her “Hampton undergrad, Harvard grad”-ass ass.

Her response was predictable. First, she did what every single black person who’s ever been accused of being bougie by anyone at any time always does first: deny the fact that she’s bougie. Then, she denied the fact that bougie black girls even say or do anything “special enough” to warrant an entire video for them.

As you’ll begin to see in the next paragraph, I disagreed.

“Does he own a passport?”

If you’re ever in doubt as to whether a black girl is truly bougie, ask her if she’d date a guy who didn’t own a passport. If she says something normal like “I guess. I mean, I don’t see why not.” she’s probably not. But, if she recoils in fear, breaks out in hives, and starts running in circles while crying and screaming “NONONONONONONONO!!!!!!” you’ve probably found yourself a bougie black girl.

Bougie black girls reading this, can you explain something to me? What is the big deal with the passport? I mean, I understand loving to travel and wanting your potential beau to be able to travel with you, but what’s preventing you from just asking him to get one. Seriously, the conversation would go exactly like this:

“Hey, I want to go to Spain this summer, and I’d like you to come with me. Do you have a passport?”

“No, nubian princess, God of my Earth, but I’d love to make that trip with you, and I can get one.”

“Cool.” 

(See how easy that was?)

“That’s my favorite Thai restaurant”

For whatever reason, Thai food has catapulted past all other international cuizines as the bougie black girl’s default food of choice, leaving Ethiopian food, Indian food, and p*ssy juice in it’s curry-scented dust.

Perhaps the collective decision to be Thai food philes occurred in one of those mysterious early Saturday morning meetings Delta chapters love to have. If that’s true, it helps to explain why they each have to devote like 30% of their yearly income to Delta dues. They’re not giving back to the main office. They’re putting their money together to fund all these gotdamn Thai restaurants popping up all over the damn place.

Also, note how the bougie black girl says “that’s my favorite” — a linguistic trick letting the listener know that her bougie ass has been to enough Thai restaurants to be able to deem one her favorite.

“I’m not bougie”

I referenced this before — bougie motherf*ckers never seem to want to acknowledge their bougieness — but, the more I think about it, the more I think this denial is inauthentic. I think they enjoy being thought of as bougie because it assigns a certain social status to them. But, since they know it’s not socially acceptable to relish that status, they verbally deny it while doing mental jumping jacks of joy. (“He called me bougie! This means that he thinks I’m worth some effort! Lemme pretend not to be bougie so he doesn’t think I’m too siddity“)

“Where’s brunch?”

Panama’s already touched on this, but bougie black girls love brunch more than fat crackheads love Home Depot.

“I’m so ratchet.”

Sign #318 that you’re definitely, unequivocally, absolutely, unmistakably, positively, and emphatically NOT ratchet: You refer to yourself as ratchet.

“Wait, who’s going to be there?” 

It doesn’t matter if they’re going to a party or just going out to the front lawn to pick up the newspaper, bougie black girls don’t even consider going anywhere unless they know exactly who else is going. Now, finding out that some of the “wrong” people are going doesn’t necessarily stop them from going, but it does influence their attire, mode of transportation, intoxication level, tph (tweets per hour) count, and whether the guy she invites back to her house later “adds to her number.”

“Is he Greek?”

“Greek” can also be replaced with “from here,” done with school,” “driving that,” or “gay”

“Where’d you get that?” “Target, girl.” “OH MY GOD!!!”

You haven’t lived until you listened to two bougie black girls practically orgasm with surprise over a recent purchase one of them made at Target. What makes it even better is the fact that they have the exact same convo with the exact same orgasm of surprise each time at least once a week.

Anyway, people of VSB.com, that’s it for me. Can you think of any more shit that bougie black girls (or guys) say?

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

Yup, Another Minute-by-Minute Recap Of The Season Premiere Of “The Game”

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So happy togetherrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Or not.

9:59: As I begin to prepare for my second annual minute-by-minute recap of the season debut of “The Game,” it’s probably not a good sign that it took me three minutes to find BET on my cable box. I feel extremely white right now. (And by “white” I mean “grown”)

Anyway, as “Lost In The World” — the Kanye song I listen to whenever I want to think about my dead goldfish — is playing in the background, they’re in the middle of an montage of things that made me wish I’d actually watched more than one episode of “The Game” last year so I can know what the hell is going on.

Confession time: You know how you’ll be watching some trailer for some sh*tty movie, and you’ll see a “much too established to be in this sh*tty movie” actor in it, clearly just there to collect a paycheck and go home?

Well, that’s how I feel about writing this summary. I have absolutely no interest in this show, but I’m only writing about it because I know people are going to want to read about and discuss it tonight and tomorrow. I’m officially a sell-out.

10:00: Another confession: I was kind of stressed about doing this. Live blogs, while fun, are pretty difficult to navigate because you’re watching, thinking of clever/relevent sh*t to write, and writing simultaneously.

But, since BET has five minutes of commercials for every three minutes of air time, I’m surprisingly good. Thanks Debra Lee!

10:01: I’ve never not been entertained by an Underworld movie. Just wanted to put that out there.

10:02: The show begins with Twin Mowry and Derwin Davis in a hospital. I really have no idea what the f*ck is going on right now. This — me not knowing what the hell is going on — will be a recurring theme with this summary.

10:04: Do laugh tracks make anything better? Seriously. Have you ever seen something funny happen in real life (i.e: a fat man in a little coat slipping on a patch of ice) and thought to yourself “Damn. This is funny as hell. You know what would make it even funnier? A gotdamn laugh track.”

(Ok, I actually have thought that before, but I think you get my point. Laugh tracks suck.)

10:05: As Derwin and the good Doctor McWhateverTheHellHisNameIs have a pissing contest, I’m reminded of something a few of my soon to be PhDed friends joke about all the time.

According to them, doctors (surgeons especially) usually are a few sandwiches short of a picnic basket, and aren’t exactly the smartest people on Earth either. They’re known as the dummies in the advanced degree world. I have no idea why I’m telling you all this. Perhaps I think you’d find the years long MD vs PhD feud to be more entertaining than my summary of this scene.

10:07: We see Jason Pitts for the first time, as he’s completing a mid-day booty call with some onesie-clad chick named Gloria. Don’t bother asking me why someone would have sex, put a onesie on, and get back in bed, because I have no answers for you.

She chides him about his pattern of not dating black women (I smell a recurring theme!!!) before inviting him to a wedding. Hmm. Shouldn’t booty calls make baby steps when they’re trying to score some “lets do something in public now” time? I mean, a wedding? It usually takes at least 20 sessions to even make it to a Wendy’s drive-thru.

10:09: Seeing Rick Ross on screen reminds me that his “Rich Forever” mixtape may be the best mixtape I’ve ever downloaded. (And yes. You just read a hip-hop purist put “Rick Ross” and “best ever” in the same sentence. If you have a problem with that, I’ll levitate on all you p*ssy n*ggas)

10:10: Pooch Hall Malik walks in while carrying a drunk hoochie, and the drunk hoochie is carrying 15 pounds of ass and 115 ounces of weave. This probably won’t end well.

10:11: Sign #3453 that I’m getting old: I remember when Anne Marie Johnson — the mom in the Kevin Hart Ford Explorer commericals — played the token hot chick in all of Robert Townsend’s movies, and the plastic woman in “I’m Gonna Git You Sucka.” I wanted to sleep with her before I even know what “I want to sleep with her” meant.

10:13: Derwin Davis is having his Emmy moment as he speaks to Twin Mowry. Nostrils are flaring. Cheeks are flushed. Voices are cracking. This is some high-level, Inside The Actor’s Studio-type sh*t right now.

10:14: Checking to see if they were joking about the show being an hour long.

10:14: Finding out that it is actually an hour long, and that I’ve already committed to writing this entire f*cking recap

10:14: Contemplating suicide.

10:15: The producers of “The Game” must have ESP, because as soon as I was thinking about giving the peace sign to life, they threw on some Kanye to snap me back to reality.

10:18: Brandy the bartender tries not to peek at her cue cards while exchanging barbs with Jason. Honestly, is there a 30-something celebrity with a weirder and more random resume than Brandy? She was a legitimate pop star, Kobe Bryant’s prom date, actually killed someone in a car accident, has been surpassed in pop culture relevancy by her much less talented and likable younger brother. It’s like her Wiki page was written by a dyslexic.

10:19: I have to say, Jason is easily my favorite character on the show, and since they give him all the best lines, he must be the writers’ favorite character as well.

10:22: Wendy Raquel Robinson (“Racks on Racks” for short) is in great shape, but I think she may have gotten to that strange point some women get to when they work out so much that they’re in danger of going from “she looks good” to “find the nearest methadone clinic”

10:27: Literally nothing important happens in the five minute span from 10:22 to 10:27.

10:27: I misspoke. Something important did happen. My feelings about the laugh track have gone from “very annoyed” to “I wish a plague on the family of whoever thought this was a good idea”

10:28: I’m going to put my serious hat on for a second and say that the relationship between Racks on Racks and Pooch Hall Malik is what happens when moms fall in love with their sons. Please, single mothers out there, if you ever find yourself falling in love with your son, suckerpunch him in the eye. Trust men, in 20 years, you’ll be a better woman and he’ll be a better man for it.

10:28: Since when does “naked chick found dead from an overdose” = “cue laugh track?” Am I missing something here?

10:32: As I’m beginning to get progressively more bored with the show, my mind begins to drift to more important things, most notably have Twin Mowry and Derwin Davis ever slept together in real life.

(I don’t think so. In fact, I hate when people say things like that. (pot meet kettle) But, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did.)

10:33: Abortion Bombshell!!!!!!

10:35: Gotdamn. These two really go for the jugular when they argue with each other. Am I just naive? Do people actually argue like this in real life? Seriously, they say things to each other where the only rational response would be murder.

10:35: Cue Kanye again as Twin Mowry gets her own Emmy moment. I kind of like her’s better.

10:36: Really? You’re going to stop in the middle of giving the OD-ed weave monster mouth to mouth and argue? Really, “The Game” writers, you thought this would be a perfect time to add some levity?

10:38: Even Dead Ray Charles can see that Jason and Brandy are going to start dating. Perhaps he’ll even hit it tonight.

10:39: Or get married

10:41: I feel like I should be mad about this, but this KFC “wingman” commercial may actually be the most awesome thing I’ve ever seen. My favorite part is the slow motion face shimmy while one of the women is eating a wing.

10:42: Two things this Mexican honeymoon scene makes me think about:

1. How much money did they have to pay “The Hangover” people to borrow their phone camera montage trick?

2. Why does Brandy look like she’s wearing a sock in her panties? Seriously, forget about camel toe, it looked like she was hiding the camel’s entire f*cking face in her draws.

10:45: Who’s going to cry for the poor little yellow kid who couldn’t get rhythm from a sister? Who’s going shed a tear? Are you going to cry for him? You?

10:48: This new movie “The Vow” was great the first time I saw it, when it was called “50 First Dates.”

10:51: Brandy. Race. Jason. Brandy. Race. Big Booty Keisha Jackson. Race. White women. Race. Black Women. Taye Diggs.

10:55: Awww. Derwin and Twin finally made up. BTW, is it just me, or does seem like Twin Mowry always dresses like she’s from the future?

10:56: You know, I’ve been thinking if this — my girl telling me she got an abortion a decade ago and the baby actually wasn’t mine — would piss me off. Honestly, it would. Don’t know why.

10:58: The chick from everyone’s favorite Progressive State Farm commerical makes her annual appearance as Derwin’s baby-momma, which reminds me of problem my dad has with “black” commercials.

He thinks that white casting agents don’t know how to cast black couples in commercials because the women are always much too good-looking for the men they’re with for it to be believable. When I told him once that it was actually realistic because this — getting with women who rate much, much, much higher on the “looks scale” than I do — was the story of my life, he said “You played basketball, though, so you don’t count.”

10:59: Seriously, who ever is the lacefront technician or weave grip on this show must make like $200 an hour.

11:00: As Derwin ends the show by killing a guy in his driveway and running his bag of presents (That was actually some gangsta-ass sh*t), I’m left to wonder how much longer “The Game” will stay on the air. I don’t actually want it to be canceled again. Many people I know seem to like it, and even though I’m still kind of salty that their write-up on the Ebony Power 100 was like 1000 times longer than ours, the husband/wife team of Salim Akil and Mara Brock Akil seem like good people

But, snark aside, it feels like the show is on auto-pilot right now, and I’m not sure if it can be fixed or if they even want to fix it. Perhaps “The Game” is the game they’re running on black America because they know we don’t have sh*t else to watch.

 —Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)