One of my favorite groups performing one of my favorite songs live. I miss talent being a pre-requisite. (And they were pretty nice to look at too. Let’s just be honest. That helped a lot.)
En Vogue – “Free Your Mind”
Growing up, your parents raise/groom/train you to be certain ways. No, we’re not animals but we are guided by our parents, either by the things they do or don’t do, tell us or don’t tell us. There are plenty exceptions to the rules but the goal of most parents is to protect and “properly” raise their kids. Equip and encourage them with the tools and confidence they’ll need to achieve their goals. These are all noble aspirations.
Beyond the (hopeful) comfort of home, every person has certain things they feel are important to their child’s ability to effectively navigate the outside world. Some things are somewhat universal (i.e. traffic laws, waiting in line, “please” ,”Yes ma’am”/”No, sir”, etc). But for each parent, there are rules of life that are more specific to their life experiences, whether those experiences were shaped by gender, race, religion, class, etc. Whether your parent believes in the superiority (or inferiority) of one group over another, most will try to equip their child for other people’s view on the matter. For me growing up, while gender played a small role, my difference was my race. Being black meant a lot more than requiring the brown crayon instead of the peach or being less likely to sunburn. (Seriously, I was 21 before I had my first sunburn and I only noticed when I started to peel.)
As a brown baby, I was given a collection of “other” rules to make it easier to operate in world not designed or “run” by people who looked like me (or necessarily valued looking like me). Now, I was taught and understood that white people were not “the” or an enemy. They were just the people who could make my life especially difficult. Of course that understanding has evolved with age and experience but things were relatively simple for a nine-year-old black girl growing up in the not-so-reformed South in the 90s.
A few examples:
- Persona: Stealing/Shoplifting is bad. And while I may not be doing anything wrong, I will be watched. Advice: Never open or mess around in your bag while in a store. Preferably zip/close it before you walk in.
- Image: You should love yourself and how God made you. But we press/straighten our hair before we go see God in church on Sundays. Sunday Best meant straight hair (among other things…)
- Image: Also “professional” women and beautiful little girls have straight hair. DON’T mess up your hair!
- Language: Whatever slang you use at home cannot be used in public. It’s just not right and other/white people will think you’re not smart. (This was well before the ebonics as a language debate.)
- Persona: Watch your temper. People will be afraid of you and be unable to explain why. You will have to be more patient, more forgiving and more resilient.
- School/Professional: Grades will not speak for themselves. You may have to work twice as hard for people to consider you to be just as good. God forbid you ever be better/smarter…
- School/Professional: Also, don’t ever give anyone the opportunity to accuse you of cheating (along the same lines as stealing). You’ll be a suspect before blond Suzy. Prove them wrong.
- And many more…
There are a lot of little things that help black kids understand that while they may be equal according to God and an amended constitution, in the eyes of many people who hold the keys to their comfort and/or success, they may not be. More importantly, people invested in their success (and mental health) work to teach those kids how to navigate the waters and handle the less than choice situations. I’ve been called names, physically assaulted, ignored, picked on, offended and completely avoided because you can’t see my veins and I could pull off dreads. In elementary school, a teacher pulled me out of the gifted program because no black student had qualified. She felt I needed to be retested if I was to continue in it. I was asked by a little girl on the bus, “Who rolled you in the mud when you were born?” (Lovely, right?) A librarian in a small midwestern town I was visiting questioned if I was actually reading the books I was checking out or just carrying them. I’ve watched store owners watch me as I watched other less tan people happily slip objects into their bags. In college, I was attacked on campus because of two things: 1.) I was black and 2.) he was drunk. However with everything, I am very fortunate and thankful I was born black in the 80s rather than anytime sooner. We are evening out. Eventually everyone will be a little more tan. I apologize in advance to the sunscreen companies.
My point is not that life (at least mine) is terrible. It’s jut life. We all have prejudices and -isms we’re subject to. For me, black, female and middle class quickly sum it up. There are good and bad, defeating and empowering things about just about any label I could give myself. My point is that my parents, family, teachers, friends all worked to shape and prepare me for the status quo. I’ll never be thin, pale, blond or blue-eyed. BUT I can be molded in ways to make my differences less offensive to those fitting those descriptions. I’ve been packaged in a way that might make it easier for WASPs (White Anglo-Saxon Protestants) to accept.
Throughout my life, I’ve been described as an oreo – black on the outside, white on the inside. I’ve been told I’m the smartest (0r only smart) black person someone has met. Been described as being a very white black person (as if that’s a thing, let alone a good thing). Asked why I speak so well. Been told I am (surprisingly) respectful. Informed my neck doesn’t move nearly as much or my voice doesn’t get as loud as some (of my) people. Been seen as an “exception”.
As sad (or infuriating) as all of those things may be, they probably make all of the people who worked so hard to prepare me for the “real” world very proud on a private, painful, never-to-be-openly-discussed level. I was born in America, raised (mostly) in Black America and “Made” for White America.
Living in Fill in the Blank America now,
Jo’van