How To Be Black

I never wanted to Not be black. To be clear, that is distinct from ever having thought about not being Black.

But I have noticed how uniquely black people are bound to the prejudice around them. White people can simply change their stories and avoid prejudice. Jews, Serbs and others have changed their names and records of origin to avoid persecution. The difference is they could fit in after effectively making these changes. I have yet to succeed at not being seen as the “Black” person amidst a group of whites. Any Black person who has accomplished this please, please, PLEASE write a book or produce a class on it so I can get that down.

I find the predominance of white privilege that underlies mainstream society simply awesome. I have yet to find any place in society where the application of unfair practices and a majority of detrimental outcomes for Black people are not found.

In my blog “Being Black” I question the effectiveness of our predominant choices. Ghandi, Mother Teresa, Malcom X, Nat Turner, Harriet Tubman, and Martin Luther King, Jr. (to name a few) all chose to oppose ”the values of the mainstream society around us”. And they all share a common creed - they chose to take daily incessant civil action in support of the choices they made, they chose to act out of love and with compassion, and their lives were filled with challenges and persecution for their actions in support of those choices.

Are we questioning ”the values of the mainstream society around us”? If so, what choices are we making? Are we doing the same things and expecting different results? Does bitterness fill our hearts and underlie our actions? Do we act with unceasing commitment in support of the changes we wish to see, or do we act out of anger and in opposition to present conditions and circumstances? In my humble experience these are relevant questions for all to ponder.

When I am thinking about race issues, I always take as my starting point the fact that I’m racist.  I sure would like to not be racist any more.  But I’m also American, born and raised.  I don’t think it’s possible to live your life in America and not be racist.  I’m talking about a psychological internalized racism, but that racism is the cause and result of lots of objective phenomena.  For example, a black male has a one in three chance of spending time in prison — check out this article: http://nplusonemag.com/raise-the-crime-rate

I will be unable to participate in a post-racial society, because I am too racist.

In answer to the Day 14 Question “Have You Ever Been Asked To Speak For ALL Black People?”

When I was accepted into Medical School, I assumed it was because I was intelligent, had an impressive academic history, and clinical + research experience. When I arrived to orientation, I realized I was one of a select group of four specifically chosen black ambassadors. Our mission, to speak for the entire black race. They covered all their bases, both an east and west african, a west indian, and I was the prized black american.  Although my parents are both Jamaicans, my kings county birth certificate and backstory meet all necessary criteria for American blackness. I was born in the hood (Bed sty) in a single parent household. All the stereotypes minus the prison time, drug addiction, STD, and unwanted pregnancy. The problem, four years of public education in one of the most diverse colleges in US, deluded me into believing my education allowed me to rise above my race/culture.  I was smart/scientist, not black.

So naturally I rebelled. “I am not Martin Luther King,” I exclaimed, and “I ‘m not your black ambassador.”

I remember the moment my small group teacher tried to casually bring up the issue of race and medicine, to hear what we had to say about it, all while looking at me. Thankfully, my white classmates covered for me. They spoke up and dismissed the question. 

Mostly, I have failed to live up to my schools expectation. I’m a slippery negro. Whenever the opportunity arises, I remain silent, maintain my heart rate at a resting rate, and pretend not have noticed the opportunity to interject an opinion. I remind myself every day, I can always run away to Africa, like my dad did 2005. 

sometimes I hate being “black.” i wish I could just be a doctor, or a research assistant, or have any other job, than to help white people feel more comfortable about their position

In answer to the Day 3 Question “Have You Ever Wanted To Not Be Black or ___?

I could be embarrassed. I probably should be embarrassed. However, I am not sure I feel anything for the times I have wished I was any other color but black.

I am African, Kenyan, for precision sake. I spent the first eighteen years of my life as just another girl. My teachers were black. My classmates were all black, with the occasional Indian or point-five (half-black/half-white), but those were very rare - like 0 in my high school classroom of 50, or 2 in my high school graduating class of 284. That was high school. I am now in the States, enrolled in a private, Christian college in rural, Southern Illinois. See where I am going with this? My teachers are all white with exception of one - yes, only one faculty member is anything but white. I have become the one black person in most of my classes and I am one of the few black people at the table when I decide to venture out of that ubiquitous back-of-the-cafeteria-“black-people” comfort zone. Anything I do at this school will stand out. Even simply walking into a room - I stand out. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t wanna stand out, I do. For the vanity of being the prettiest girl in the room, because I am the smartest in the room, or because I made such a mind-blowing point in class that changes the course of earth for ever. I want to stand out. But after four years, I feel as though I am only allowed to stand out for the color of my skin, or for breaking some stereotype attached to being Kenyan/African or being black. (There are plenty more African students than African American students at my campus.) “Oh, wow. Most of my African friends can’t swim. You’re pretty good.” Or, “Look at you! Your English is so good - your accent is almost indiscernible unlike some Africans on campus.”

There are a few white Africans on campus and while we haven’t sat down to swap anecdotes, they seem to have an easier time blending in. People (read ‘white kids’) are also a lot comfortable around the Asian kids. But around the African kids, white kids walk on egg shells, trying too hard not to be offensive. So no, I am not embarassed to want to blend in. Nor to want to make friends without being the ‘token-’ anything. Nor want to have a simple conversation about my haircare without generalizations or worrying that I will be offended by curiosity. I would like to have normal interaction with people, and while I am in this college, the only way that would happen is if I wasn’t black - even only by half. I should probably also wish I were male to achieve complete norm-status.