My entire life I have struggled with my racial identity. I
grew up in a small, rural town that was predominately white. Growing up as a
mixed-race kid, half black and half white, I didn’t quite understand the
nuances of my racial complexity until middle school. Up until that point I just
went along as any other kid, a little oblivious to how society views people of
color and just assuming that everybody was the same on the inside. Obviously,
it dawned on me that all of the kids in my school weren’t the same, we all
looked different, but deep down everyone seemed the same. It really started to
hit me in middle school when I started
to be called brillow pad, nappy head, nappy hair, etc by white kids that didn’t
know or understand how a black person’s hair grew out. On the other side, the
few black kids in my school would also call me the whitest black kid that they
knew. As you can tell, I’m getting input from both sides of my racial identity.
At this point with becoming aware of the differences of being of color and
being white, I become more confused as ever with where I identify.
I’ve remained silent, not because I haven’t had things to say,
but because I’ve been having a hard time processing my emotions, my feelings,
my experiences and putting them down on paper. I want to help add another voice
to the struggle, to help educate those that have not seen or experienced systemic
racism and profiling. For the last 20 years, I’ve kept this inside, I’ve gone
with the ebbs and flows of being bi-racial, I’ve lived with the stigmas that
come with having darker skin, I’ve utilized some of the privileges that have
come with being half white, but with all that is going on in this country at
the moment, right now is the time to show where I stand, how I identify, why it
is important for me to overcome my struggle and help speak out for those that haven’t
found their voice yet.
As I find my thoughts, my voice, my pen, I realize it is the
fear, the angst, the sorrow, and the hope that push me to write. I think to my
past and how many times I’ve been called the “N” word, I think how many times I’ve
been pulled over (both just and unjust) and think how those interactions with
law enforcement could have gone different. I think about how many times I’ve
been profiled or followed around department stores by security and asked to
have my bags checked. Never in my life have I been more fearful to walk through
my neighborhood and wonder if anybody thinks I’m being suspicious or if I fit “the
description”. This isn’t a way to live, and I am saying this as someone who is half
white. Growing up I was taught the differences between right and wrong, but it
never sunk in that because of my skin color even doing the right thing could
still turn out wrong for me. It’s interesting to think about that maybe due to
me being bi-racial and a little blissful ignorance that I never “had the talk”
with my parents about what to do or say if I was pulled over because of the
color of my skin. Thinking back over the last few years with the multiple killings
of black adults and children by law enforcement I realize it is more blissful
ignorance than anything. My heart goes out to all of those parents that have
had that talk with their children and still have lost their loved ones.
I have had close friends ask me how I’m feeling with
everything that is going on and what my reactions are to people claiming they
aren’t racist because of this and that reason. I’ve had people ask why do Black
Lives Matter only when their lives are taken by law enforcement and not when
blacks kill blacks. Why do only Black Lives Matter when all lives should matter?
George Floyd and Rayshard Brooks were both bad guys and had been in jail before
so why are they being patronized as saints? I believe these are all
distractions from bigger issues that are plaguing society. People are so
personally concerned with being labeled a racist that they are missing the
bigger problem of a racist system that is and has been looming over the country.
Yes, people have had bad pasts but their pasts should not lead to unjust deaths.
Yes, there is black on black crime, but do not think that those lives lost did
not matter, mothers grieve, fathers mourn, black communities come together to
pay respects for those lives. When those lives are taken, they are not taken by
a system that has inherently targeted people of color, a system that has time
and time again shown prejudice and bias. When these lives are taken, they are
made public, they reach all black communities, they reach all black mothers,
fathers, sons, daughters. All lives that are taken unjustly matter, but right
now Black Lives Matter.
I don’t want this to come across as a call to arms against law
enforcement officers. For as long as I remember, I’ve wanted to be a police
officer, I’ve wanted to serve the community, be a change in the way that
policing is done. As I digress, I do have admiration for officers, more
importantly those officers that stand up and protect the oath they took when
they put on the uniform and adorned the badge, the officers that are there and
present on your worst days. I want this to come across as an education and an
eye opening that there is a systemic problem that needs to corrected.
I find myself, today on June 19th, Juneteenth,
still conflicted but proud of my roots and black culture. I’m proud to stand up
and finally voice my thoughts and my heart. I stand here with hope for all of
the people of all colors that have stood up and spoken before me. I stand here
for justice and peace and for equal treatment in every situation. I stand for
not being silent anymore and standing for a long over due change.
