Jovan Lucas-Chamberlain is my full name, but most people call me Jay-voe. Not sure where the nickname originated, but I love it. Before I get into the meat and potatoes, lets dive into my past. In 2010, I attended Georgia Southern University with my best friend. No one made us go to class nor clean our rooms. Eventually, we developed a routine. Our routine was to skip class, get high or drunk, and last but most importantly, get laid. Honestly, I do not think I attended one class my entire tenure at GSU. I did not work so, all of my spare time either went to attending sporting events or becoming the best Mario Kart 64 player in the universe. Like all things in life, everything must end.
In the summer of 2011, I was notified that I would start …show more content…
Before you are shipped to basic military training, you have to process through the Military Entrance Processing Station (MEPS). This is where they examine you for any health defects or abnormalities that would disqualify you from service. While waiting in line to be checked by the doctor, a guy asked, “Hey man where you from?”. I answered, “East Atlanta.”. Then there was this loud bang that sounded like someone slamming an iron pot against a car door followed by a man yelling, “Who in the fuck was talking?”. You could hear this man before you could see him. A Hispanic dude about five foot three with a face that looked like the bulldog from Tom and Jerry entered the room. “I said who the fuck (emphasis on the fuck) was talking?”. Everyone in line looked at each other, but no one had spoken up. My heart was pounding, and I knew no one was going to say anything. So, I uttered in a mousy voice, “Me.”. Looking directly at me, the man responded, “Get out of line. You’re done!”. I grabbed my belongings and walked shamefully out of the line. I had my free hand on the front door to exit the building when I heard, “Hey dipshit, get back in line! That took a lot of balls to admit to, but if I even hear you breathe, I will end you!”. In that moment, I learned that honesty is the best policy and to never speak in …show more content…
However, I would like to mention that I was one of three brown men in a group of forty-seven. I have never had to face being the minority (even though African Americans make up small percentage of the population). That was very hard for me because my experience with the “majority” of this country was not pleasant. It felt as if I had been abducted and taken to a foreign land. Even though we were all from the same country, we viewed the world through different lenses. To this day, I believe that there are about five different “United States” in this one
In the summer of 2011, I was notified that I would start …show more content…
Before you are shipped to basic military training, you have to process through the Military Entrance Processing Station (MEPS). This is where they examine you for any health defects or abnormalities that would disqualify you from service. While waiting in line to be checked by the doctor, a guy asked, “Hey man where you from?”. I answered, “East Atlanta.”. Then there was this loud bang that sounded like someone slamming an iron pot against a car door followed by a man yelling, “Who in the fuck was talking?”. You could hear this man before you could see him. A Hispanic dude about five foot three with a face that looked like the bulldog from Tom and Jerry entered the room. “I said who the fuck (emphasis on the fuck) was talking?”. Everyone in line looked at each other, but no one had spoken up. My heart was pounding, and I knew no one was going to say anything. So, I uttered in a mousy voice, “Me.”. Looking directly at me, the man responded, “Get out of line. You’re done!”. I grabbed my belongings and walked shamefully out of the line. I had my free hand on the front door to exit the building when I heard, “Hey dipshit, get back in line! That took a lot of balls to admit to, but if I even hear you breathe, I will end you!”. In that moment, I learned that honesty is the best policy and to never speak in …show more content…
However, I would like to mention that I was one of three brown men in a group of forty-seven. I have never had to face being the minority (even though African Americans make up small percentage of the population). That was very hard for me because my experience with the “majority” of this country was not pleasant. It felt as if I had been abducted and taken to a foreign land. Even though we were all from the same country, we viewed the world through different lenses. To this day, I believe that there are about five different “United States” in this one