CNN is doing a campaing, When I Realized I was Black.
It’s people of color telling the story of when they realized they were black or mixed race, or a different color from other people. Basically, black people’s first experience with racism. So here’s mine. Here's the story of when I #realizediwasblack or that I was at least different. Now a little background. My mom is white and my dad is black. Their race, like most people, is more complicated than just the color of their skin, but that's what color they are. I'm kinda beigey brownish. Both my parents are retired preachers and they met in church in NY and moved to SC because of a cheaper cost of living.
Anyway! I started school when I was about 2.5 or so. The Montessori program is a private school program for like elementary school I guess and it basically accepts kids as soon as they're able to walk and begin to talk and stuff. At that point, my parents been in SC for about 6 months or so and they liked the Montessori system because it teaches kids to be independent. Well, when my mom adopted her granddaughters who were about my age, my parents couldn't afford private school for 3 kids so in first grade, when I was 5 years old, I went to public school. And I remember really vividly that first day of first grade, that first day of public school when I was 5 years old, I was on the playground and another kid in my class, another 5 year old, ran up to me. And he said, "I can't play with you because you're going to hell cause you're mixed." And I knew what Hell was. It's where bad people go when they make God mad. And I started to cry. No one had ever threatened me before, no one had ever told me I was going to Hell. And I couldn't stop crying, and my parents had to pick me up from school. And that night, they showed me the part of the bible this kid was quoting wrong. And they had to tell their 5 year old child about how sometimes people are mean or jealous or sometimes people don't understand God and why God made people all different, but that no matter what, all of God's children are beautiful and none of them are going to Hell, no matter what some punk told me. And I'm truly blessed to have had parents that were so good and so understanding and talked me though years of bullying and years of horribleness and told me I was loved and definitely not going to Hell for anything I couldn't control. Because I was made fun of for the rest of school, and I slowly learned my hair was too curly but also not curly enough, that I was too dark but also not dark enough. And that my eyes were too light but not light enough.
I also vividly remember the girls, white and black, that made fun of me in elementary school for having curly hair and tan skin because in high school, because of internalized racism and misogyny, those same girls wanted hair like mine and skin like mine. "I wish I had good hair. I wish I was tan all year long." And I also remember that while my first experience was a peer, it wasn't just people my age. Older people like teachers said a lot of the same things, but in a very teacher way. "They're just jealous cause they wish they could be tan like you all year long! It's December and you're so tan! Look at me, I'm so white and you're so pretty!" Like. A grown woman said that to a 10 year old. And a black teacher said, "Y'all just mad that your mama lets you run around nappy and she got that good hair." And a grown woman said that to 12 year olds about another 12 year old. And all of this started when I was only 5 years old. And that's when I realized I was black.
