My feelings lately. I’m really sick of not belonging. I’m sick of being too intersectional to make friends. I’m sick of feeling on the outside of my own communities, wherever they exist. Sending love to biracial, mixed race, and ethnically ambiguous folk within the plural, alterhuman, queer, and neurodivergent spaces. You’re not forgotten.
I tried to craft the image ID to be understandable, but the piece is chaotic as fuck.
Image ID: a collage of thoughts and experiences related to finding belonging as a Biracial Black person, system, and nonhuman
Text at the top of the image reads: I’m tired of fighting, wandering, searching.
Beneath that, large green capital text reads: Where Are You?
An anthropomorphic jackalope is the main character of the image, with short pronged horns, ram horns, and long curly hair. They sit surrounded by their messy and painful thoughts, with a dark scribble of pain lodged in their heart. They look at their hands, consumed by emotion.
To the right of the jackalope is written “Wrong Kind of Black”, “Half Half”, and “Mutt” as examples of racially insensitive phrases they have heard or even applied to themselves. The word “mutt” is censored. Text reads: There’s more bullshit here. I’m learning more slurs. Slurs just for me.
To the left of the jackalope’s ear is written “Community is not for everyone.”
Nestled in the jackalope’s hair, a yellow and blue circle give way to a collection of green circles. They range from palest to the darkest, formed into a loop. Text inside reads: Becoming new, no halves.
On the right side of the image is a drawing of the jackalopes paws. The left paw is palm up, and shows the contrast between dark brown and pale cream fur. The right paw is palm down, showing the unbroken brown colouring.
Text on the wrist of the right paw reads: Dorsal Privelage.
Text above the paw drawings reads: What if it [referring to the pale skin] reached beyond my palms.
