A Day in the Life

I've told you before that I grew up in a religious household. My grandmother was very prominent in our church, First A.M.E. of Charlotte. My parents were members there as well and as such, I was expected to be at every service, rehearsal, practice, planning meeting...you get the point. It was a way of life for me when I was younger. I couldn't really say anything if I was tired or sick or just plain didn't want to go. Poppa C, my grandfather, was my only advocate, but Ma'dear rarely listened to him regarding spiritual things. That's funny because he was actually one of the most spiritual guys I knew.

My granddad...Robert Julian Clayton. I started calling him Poppa C when I learned to talk and I called him that until he left the planet. Apparently, he liked it. He changed the name of his barber shop to Poppa C's when I was two. After that, everybody called him C. He was my hero and my best friend. It broke my heart when he died. Did it make me stronger? Not really. I think I was as strong then as I am now. I just realize it now.

When I think about it, I attribute more of my knowledge of God and my place in the universe to Poppa C than to Ma'dear. Don't misunderstand me. I'm not saying Ma'dear didn't lay a good foundation, because she did. But it was C who taught me what it meant to be created in the image of perfection. I learned that by sitting at the feet of twelve Cherokee warriors, old men. One was C and another was the Chief of the tribe, my great-grandfather. They are the ones who taught me everything I use today. I attribute that to Robert Clayton.

Anyway, I hate when you get me talking about this stuff. Quick picking my psyche. Next question...


Marcus Clayton
From the Interview with a Bastard blog series