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I went back to find this picture. . i'd posted this on
here, privately. . unsure how to bring it up. . . the fact that i'm
black. unsure if i would be kissed. i've heard it many times- "i don't
see that you're black, i just see you." but i AM black. being black is
an integral part of me, and if you don't SEE that i'm black, then you
don't SEE me. not really. not fully.
i took a
multicultural issues class this weekend and a weekend a month ago. . .i
can't remember the last time i cried as much as i did. this class was
definitely up there for pinnacle moments of realizing truths so
embedded in my life . . . like floating in water whose rising
temperatures are boiling me alive. And i've been completely, almost
completely unaware of the decisions and choices i've made based on the
fact that for a great part of my life i've been a black girl living and
growing in a white world. . . . and the ways i've been betrayed and the
ways that i have betrayed myself as a result are beginning to come to
light. it's a scary, painful road, but as i step into it, with a few
good friends . . i believe the road is not as lonely as i thought it'd
be. .. which is the only reason i can speak of what i'm entering.. even
just cursorily on here.
cause before, i just wanted to be Emily.
funny Emily, mDiv Emily, the Emily who's interested in japanese, and
plays guitar, and procrastinates .. who has crazy hair and a loud laugh
and a big smile, who's affectionate, and loyal and passive aggressive
and socially awkward and overweight and writes pretty good poetry and
sometimes lame songs. . ..
i can admit and embrace all these
things about myself, confess them and expound on all of them to the
world . but when it comes to being black, i'm silent. it's somehow been
taboo. it would make people uncomfortable and/or make me a target.
The
nail sticking up . . .gets hammered down. . . it's one thing that a
majority of my friends can't relate to .. and over the span of my life
i can say, they haven't been too curious about it. . . not that i've
been curious about white people.. i mean, i don't feel like i have to
be in some ways because i grew up in a predominantly white neighborhood
and church .. my first friends were white. . and yet i won't say i know
fully what it means to be white. . .my class talked about how part of
being white is that you don't have to think about it, it's default like
when i would hear people tell stories, "there were two guys and black
guy" -- to white has been what it's meant to be human in this country.
. . like "flesh" colored band-aids . . . . .i definitely don't know
fully what it means to be black. . but i want to.
i want to be
black Emily. I AM black Emily. I'm glad to be black, and i don't say
that because i'm glad not to be white as much as i say it because there
have been messages and stereotypes and influences my whole life that
have pressured me not be glad. I'm not alone other wise this wouldn't exist or this
. . . I've been caught in a false binary that says i've got to choose.
to assimilate to the dominant (white) culture or be against it, or be
cast out of it. . . i'm beginning to believe there's a way to be me and
be loved and to love. it's not an easier way, but it's better . . . |
| | Posted 8/19/2007 11:51 PM - 137 Views - 12 eProps - 6 comments
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