I've only been called the "n-word" once in my life. It was a rude awakening for me. It made me realize what I always kind of knew: No matter what I achieve, my contributions to society and how great of a person I am, I will always be a black woman first. Even the President of the United States is seen as a black man before he is seen as the President. It's a fact that every black person has to come to terms with.
It was hard for me growing up, I never really related to black culture. I was raised by African immigrants and went to an all white school. My parents always made sure I was on my best behavior because I was the only example these white folk had to go by. That meant no BET and definitely no rap unless I wanted my ass whooped. It is an enormous pressure, to spend your childhood thinking your actions can shape the way a person views an entire race. I would think to myself, 'If I don't do my homework, I'm going to prove to my teachers and classmates black people are lazy.'
There were definitely certain aspects of black culture I was in tune to, but I didn't truly embrace the culture until later in my teenaged years. I have to admit, I definitely believed for a while Africans are superior to Black Americans. It's hard not to when slurs like 'akata' are thrown around all the time.
With that in mind, I never liked the "n-word". My classmates would use it all the time, but it was never directed at me so I never felt the need to confront them. I think they knew it was wrong to use, because they would never refer to their friends as 'their nigga' if they knew I was around. On top of that, a lot of people considered me to be pretty white-washed. I was an 'oreo' or 'the whitest black girl they knew' but a nigger? No way, a girl who played lacrosse, wore Ralph Lauren and got good grades was certainly no nigger. I think my classmates thought they were paying me a compliment, calling me white. I would laugh it off, but deep down it hurt. Being black is part of my identity, it is the first thing people see. If I'm not black, what am I?
One day, I was waiting in the lunch line for a sandwich. I didn't have a lunch period, but my orchestra teacher allowed me to be a little late to grab a bite to eat. The line was particularly long and I was getting a little impatient. I would have hated for my teacher to think I was abusing the privilege she gave me. I was close to the front of the line, when a known troublemaker, Humzah, cuts the whole damn line. I guess I was feeling bold because I straight up said "Excuse you, what gives you the right to cut every person in this line?" What he said in reply was barely intelligible but one word was unmistakable. "Nigga". I do not know what came over me. To this day. I am still known at that school for being one of the nicest girls, but that girl had up and disappeared. That girl was possessed by rage. "What the FUCK did you just say?" I had every intention to lunge at him and gouge his eyes but luckily one of my friends Dan sensed my fury, and he held me back and told me that he wasn't worth it. I don't even know how Dan knew just how angry I was but I'm glad he did. ( Dan still tells me it was the scariest thing he has ever seen. He claims there was fire in my eyes and steam coming out of my ears.) I really think I could have killed Humzah. This is coming from a girl who had never cursed, never been in a fight and was time skin and bones. Humzah on the other hand was known for starting fights, probably had a knife in his pocket and had at least fifty pounds on me. This kid is probably the most infamous hooligan in the history of my school. This guy was bad. Yet, I am positive I would have killed him with ease. Just thinking about it still makes me angry. I have never felt so disrespected in my life. People had acted racist toward me and said racist things to me in the past, but there is something about the way he said it. Something about how blatant and casual he was.
I don't condone violence or destruction, but I understand why there were riots in Baltimore and Ferguson. When a black man is blatantly killed by a racist cop, and how casually his death is treated how can one not be angry? When the public doesn't give a damn and tries to paint the VICTIM as a criminal, how can one not be angry? When black men dying at the hands of cops seems to be the norm and not the exception, how can one not be angry? When murderers go unpunished, how can one not be angry?
You know what. I'm angry. And I have every reason to be.
It was hard for me growing up, I never really related to black culture. I was raised by African immigrants and went to an all white school. My parents always made sure I was on my best behavior because I was the only example these white folk had to go by. That meant no BET and definitely no rap unless I wanted my ass whooped. It is an enormous pressure, to spend your childhood thinking your actions can shape the way a person views an entire race. I would think to myself, 'If I don't do my homework, I'm going to prove to my teachers and classmates black people are lazy.'
With that in mind, I never liked the "n-word". My classmates would use it all the time, but it was never directed at me so I never felt the need to confront them. I think they knew it was wrong to use, because they would never refer to their friends as 'their nigga' if they knew I was around. On top of that, a lot of people considered me to be pretty white-washed. I was an 'oreo' or 'the whitest black girl they knew' but a nigger? No way, a girl who played lacrosse, wore Ralph Lauren and got good grades was certainly no nigger. I think my classmates thought they were paying me a compliment, calling me white. I would laugh it off, but deep down it hurt. Being black is part of my identity, it is the first thing people see. If I'm not black, what am I?
One day, I was waiting in the lunch line for a sandwich. I didn't have a lunch period, but my orchestra teacher allowed me to be a little late to grab a bite to eat. The line was particularly long and I was getting a little impatient. I would have hated for my teacher to think I was abusing the privilege she gave me. I was close to the front of the line, when a known troublemaker, Humzah, cuts the whole damn line. I guess I was feeling bold because I straight up said "Excuse you, what gives you the right to cut every person in this line?" What he said in reply was barely intelligible but one word was unmistakable. "Nigga". I do not know what came over me. To this day. I am still known at that school for being one of the nicest girls, but that girl had up and disappeared. That girl was possessed by rage. "What the FUCK did you just say?" I had every intention to lunge at him and gouge his eyes but luckily one of my friends Dan sensed my fury, and he held me back and told me that he wasn't worth it. I don't even know how Dan knew just how angry I was but I'm glad he did. ( Dan still tells me it was the scariest thing he has ever seen. He claims there was fire in my eyes and steam coming out of my ears.) I really think I could have killed Humzah. This is coming from a girl who had never cursed, never been in a fight and was time skin and bones. Humzah on the other hand was known for starting fights, probably had a knife in his pocket and had at least fifty pounds on me. This kid is probably the most infamous hooligan in the history of my school. This guy was bad. Yet, I am positive I would have killed him with ease. Just thinking about it still makes me angry. I have never felt so disrespected in my life. People had acted racist toward me and said racist things to me in the past, but there is something about the way he said it. Something about how blatant and casual he was.
I don't condone violence or destruction, but I understand why there were riots in Baltimore and Ferguson. When a black man is blatantly killed by a racist cop, and how casually his death is treated how can one not be angry? When the public doesn't give a damn and tries to paint the VICTIM as a criminal, how can one not be angry? When black men dying at the hands of cops seems to be the norm and not the exception, how can one not be angry? When murderers go unpunished, how can one not be angry?
You know what. I'm angry. And I have every reason to be.
