On the Frontline: My Tribute to Tania Hyacinthe-Brown

When you become a god-parent, you think of buying trendy outfits, celebrating birthdays, and sending money when possible. If you are a born-again-believer, you even attempt to take your godchild to church… or at least discuss the gospel with them. Never in my wildest imagination could I fathom being on the front line after the passing of my beloved friend, Tania.

We met in college at The University of Charleston in West Virginia. She and a few other African American high school seniors came for a weekend retreat. At first glance, I knew this girl was trouble, and I was all in! It was like looking into a mirror at my younger self. A secure New Yorker unabashed by others’ perceptions.

So, I did what any other culturally-aligned-sister would do. I took them to check-out West Virginia State’s campus. WVSC is an historically black college. Ironic? I know. I figured this would ensure their enrollment at a PWC with less than 1 percent black attendees. In fact, UC’s male basketball team possibly made up much of that percentage. Honestly, West Virginia State College was THE only way I got through 5.5 years of schooling in the city of Charleston. Yep, that’s right. It was my second senior year where Tania and I would build a lasting friendship for four decades.

Much like myself, Tania attended classes sparingly… enough to get by. Perhaps it’s the reason my “final” year extended into an additional year-and-a-half. Anyway, one year seemed like a lifetime: from dancing at WVSC parties, causing a stir at any WV college campus, attending regional homecomings, fake pledging at a UC basketball game, to making prank calls on the hallway phone. The same hallway we’d gather to debrief concerning crushes and upcoming schemes. It’s also where T spit fictitious rants. Tania was the biggest storyteller next to my sister Michelle. She’d have you believing anything. The antics were real! Not only did she tell stories, she lived them.

I remember one night, she and I, along with another friend, were bored out of our minds, but none of us owned a vehicle. As fate would have it, my roommate at-the-time passes out following an on-site party leaving her car keys exposed on the dresser. Tania dares me to take the keys, and I dare her to drive us to State… cause neither me nor my other friend drove. With no license, and almost on E, we drive to WVSC only to be caught, later, by Mr. Walker (campus security) for crashing the all-male dormitory after-hours. Yet, it’s the aftermath that takes the cake. Tania pulls into a local gas station to replenish our fuel usage, but none of us know how to use the pump. Three seconds after the debacle, a state trooper pulls up as we prepare ourselves for prison. My other friend insists on running. Exiting his vehicle and drawing closer, the trooper asks, “What’s the matter?” Tania tells him we need help filling up. He returns with, “Three of y’all in the car, and nobody knows how to put gas in the tank?” Silence falls over the three of us who usually have sooo much to say. I just knew he was gonna demand a driver’s license, and that both my life and college career were over. We leisurely “borrowed” someone’s vehicle without permission and drove it with no license in the car. Fortunately, for us, we let him fuss and fill us up. When I say my nerves were bad for the rest of the ride, they were just that!

The most notable story is the trip to WVSC on foot in a blizzard. Now, unlike NYC where heavy snowfall is anticipated, Charleston shuts down with less than a foot of snow. So, we decide to brave through the storm since we had nothing else to do… like catch up on late assignments. There were four of us. Tania and I led the pack. With only sweat pants, sneakers, a winter jacket and snow swirling about, we plod, and joke, while treading across the completely covered interstate as all highways are closed to vehicles. Halfway along, one of our friends stumbles to her knees screaming, “I can’t feel my legs!” Callously cackling, we attempt in persuading her to finish the hike. Once we know our friend is committed to thwarting the mission, Tania and I trudge forward. We later find out our two comrades were met by state troopers and put-up in a warm hotel, while Tania and I decide to bum-a-ride 5 minutes from State’s campus with a popular basketball player from West Virginia Tech. Crashing into an embankment of snow, given the driver is under-the-influence, state troopers seize the car and demand we get off the road. With only a few walking minutes remaining, Tania and I tramp the rest of the way.

Time spent apart from WVSC, consisted of shopping at Charleston’s downtown mall or breaking quiet hours at UC. Once, while walking past a department store, Tania runs inside and hops into the display window alongside the mannequins and window dressings. She literally stood-in-place for I’m not sure how long as people sashay by, some pointing, others wondering if Tania was AI in 1993. After the mall, we’d reassemble in one of four dorm rooms. One room in particular held the key to free food and unbridled hilarity. Often laughing at unnecessary tones, and screaming full voice, the RA would key-in to find Tania and me pretending to be asleep while our friend endures the brunt of the RA’s lectures. We were such great actors that the RA asked at-one-time, “Are they really sleeping?” Subsequently, after many close calls, Tania and I end-up caught serving several weeks of community service.

Following the University of Charleston, Tania married… still finding time to hangout. From visits to the city to trips on the boulevard, Tania was always a ball of fun, and her laughter infectious. I recall her being 7 months pregnant, sauntering, jesting, and chatting for hours as if she wasn’t carrying… until we traveled back, and her reality kicked in, as well as the jokes. Not long after, I became a god-mother to her first son Devan, and two years later to her second son Brandon. The laughs never ceased. It seems they both inherited their mom’s whit and merriment. Having the boys over was a delight as Devan would jokingly say something keeping me in stitches. Truthfully, them boys wore me out from playing in the park most of their stay. On Tania’s days off, one chuckle could turn into a 6-8 hour phone conversation. It was no different when I moved to Los Angeles in 2006. By 2011, I sustained a work injury and was temporarily homebound. Soon after, I began being harassed by a conglomerate of iniquitous individuals. While being targeted and gang-stalked, Tania’s calls, infused with comedic relief, became medicine to my soul. Comedy was our reprieve, and her favorite genre. She could shoot-a-line from any comic of that era.

Tania was a true talent. A dancer, a lyricist, poet, storyteller, and comedian. She used her talents and gifts to uplift others, especially working in the medical field. She even appeared on a podcast to unleash her gift of gab. She often talked of doing more shows using talking points to elevate others and their relationships.

We were spiritually aligned as well, both sharing similar callings, and the same spiritual gift. Her prophetic notion was leading her towards evangelism while mine was yet being revealed. The moments we weren’t laughing, we were dissecting and discussing The Word. We reveled in disrupting legalisms and other manmade belief systems. Both raised under the charismatic umbrella, we grew the other, given our scope of knowledge. While Tania experienced enormous warfare in the spirit realm, at times I found myself unready to tackle some of the topics. It wasn’t until I underwent extreme harassment, that things began adding up. I was now where she had once stood, metaphysically. That’s when she visited me in LA to be my consolation. She had a knack for protecting others often defending them from bullying. As the abuse in my life mounted, our spiritual bond grew, even when I returned to the East Coast.

Tania, you made me laugh. We danced life’s cares away. We supported the other, and now you have left us, but I will stand tall in my charge… regardless to the boys’ ages. Now, go find Mrs. Lauder-Bailey, and let her know you’re early for English Literature! (University of Charleston joke.)

I am grateful when last we spoke, we told the other, “I love you.” Rest peacefully, babygurl. Your big sis, Nicole. (Nick-Ice)