I hate my hair. I hate my skin. I hate my blackness. I hate what my image represents. I radiate inferiority. I am not good enough. I am not equal. I, and every other person of color, was born a second class citizen. Seventy years ago a “second class citizen” was defined by legislation.. Blacks here, Mexicans there, and whites over there where the best of the best are. Today, being a second class citizen is indirect. There is no more physical separation of the races or sexes; now it is through treatment, conditioning and internalization of images and real world events. My black immigrant parents came from a country (Ethiopia) that had no racial tensions. It was a country never colonized by a European power, and for this reason it was a country engulfed with pride. However, my parents were aware of some of the issues their newborn child would face as a black woman in America, so in response to these concerns they taught me to be proud just as their parents taught them when they were young.
I was raised to be strong and proud of my culture and self image. I was told to ignore microaggressions and stand up to any individual brave enough to face my wrath. For 16 years, I believed that I radiated strength, independence, pride and passion. I refused, for 16 years, to internalize the literature in my history books telling me that black history was slavery and nothing more; the unfair treatment in my classrooms; and the pecking order in my workplace. I worked not only to uplift myself but also to uplift those in my community. I stood tall, made sure my voice was heard, and did everything I was told to do in order to shield myself from the feeling of being what society sees me to be; and that is second class, and inferior. The response to my “strength” from authority was negative. In response to me being fearless, I was told to have more tact and to consider other people’s feelings ( “other people” referring to the individuals throwing the first stone by using racial slurs or minimizing me to a negative stereotype). I was told that I was disrespectful for speaking up when someone interrupts me or another female peer while speaking in a professional setting. I was told to be silent in the presence of a bigot who in my presence felt the need to use racial slurs. I was told to be less passionate. I was told by my teachers that I would never be successful based on my merits. I was told that the fact that I am both black and female had a lot to do with me being awarded the Princeton Prize in Race Relations rather than being recognized for my own achievements. I was told that my experiences and obstacles were single case scenarios and that what I had to say didn’t matter or “exist” because I was the only one who experienced it. I was called a racist for being an activist and for standing up to injustice. I was pushed to be bland, a silent follower who bows down to authority, rather than encouraged to be strong and have enough self respect to always choose and fight for myself.
These voices that inundated me during my 17th year of fighting caused me to stop seeing myself as strong, independent, and respectable. It finally occurred to me that this world is not designed for me to be strong. This world is designed for me to be dependent, silent, passive, and uninterested. I, as both a woman and a person of color, am expected to take the hits of racial and sexist aggression with a smile. I am in my 18th year, feeling lost and without a clear idea of my identity. I have become unhappy with my blackness, and overall at this point I am confused on how to carry myself. During my 18th year I have gone under the radar. I have been quiet, without opinion, without a voice, without passion and in a way without life. My identity is lost because my identity, although I tried to preserve it, has been trashed and vandalized.
Unfortunately, I know that this happens to men and women all over the world. The solution to this epidemic is yet to be found, but the search still continues. Social media has been a huge pioneer in terms of the spreading the stories of systemic adversities that people face.
I recently came across a video starring three amazing American teenage girls reciting a poem that they wrote collaboratively called “Somewhere in America.” At the beginning of their poem they stated, “Somewhere in America…the greatest lessons you will ever teach us, you will not even remember. You never told us what we were allowed to say, we just learned how to hold our tongues.” Instantly, I was engaged. I was able to relate. I didn’t feel alone. I felt community in their poem. They continued by discussing rape culture, censorship, the unwarranted taboo around discussion of controversial topics in schools. They also included the effects of not having more diverse authority. There was no single line that resonated with me the most but I do have a top 4.
- “We were taught that it is better to be silent, than to make ‘them’ uncomfortable”.
- “Kids are late to class for working the midnight shift, they give awards for best attendance but not for keeping their families off the streets”
- “Schools are promoting self confidence while they whip out their scales and shout out girl’s body fat percentage, where the heftier girls are hiding away and the slim fit beauties can’t help but giggle with pride”
- “What did you learn in class today? Don’t talk loud, don’t speak loud, keep your hands to yourself, keep your head down, keep your eyes on your own paper, if you don’t know the answer fill in c….the teacher never fails, only you do”
I am now in my 18th year, I am still black, still a woman and guess what, I am angrier than ever. This epidemic of race in America not only exists but it is being rubbed in our faces. My story is sadly not the only such story. Somewhere in America there is a young girl, like me, just starting college, scared to death, just wanting to make a good impression and not be chained by the negative stereotypes that shadow her. After recent events such as Donald Trump’s presidency, Turning Point USA and the various conflicts on campus, I have decided that I will not live in fear any longer. I will not allow ignorance to hold my tongue. As proud Americans, conservative or liberal we ALL have a responsibility to understand each other. I am not pretending to hate you, I am not pretending to be scared, I am not pretending to be broken, I am not pretending. My thoughts, my emotions and my experiences are mine and valid. To deny that would be to deface me and my existence on this planet. You may think my words and emotions are dramatic but I find 18 years of my life to be valuable and worth a second thought.
