Ancestry for Nerds: How I Found My Blerd Roots Hiding In Plain Sight

My mother had a hard time dealing with me growing up; not because I was always in trouble in school or out in the streets late, or even because she was a single mother. No, my mom’s biggest complaints dealing with me was that I would talk about comics all the time. I actually got a “talk” about being so nerdy, man. She gave me the nerd version of that talk you get about growing up Black in America. My nerd game was so strong and pure back in my youth. If it was Wednesday she knew not to come in the room unless something is on fire … unless something of importance is on fire …unless my shit is on fire. Every time I finished a comic I would come out to the living room where she’d be watching Jeopardy (she always answered the questions aloud like she’s on the show) and look at me, let out a sigh, and then go back to the TV as I would enter a straight up PowerPoint presentation. Me: Then the underrated god of the Green Lanterns John Stewart had to knock the Sinestro Corps’ sniper from three sectors away. Sectors are equal to galaxies though! Mom: … Me: You must not have heard me. I said it’s equal to an entire galaxy. Mom: … *tilts to the right trying to see around me standing in front of the TV* Me: THE DUDE IS THREE GALAXIES AWAY *long pause* AND HE GOT CLAP’D BY JOHN IN 5 SECONDS! Mom: Why do you always wanna talk about this when I’m watching TV? Me:… … ….And as John shot the sniper we got to see every nut and bolt of the gun as he created it. Look at this.

Mom:…