Of all of the things I could choose as my first topic to blog about in such a long time, I have no idea why it has to be this one. But, it has to be this one.
I just woke up from a sad dream. One that I hope my daughter never has. She is actually sleeping close by and I pray in this moment she will never experience the dream I just had.
I was throwing a party in some strange alternate version of my present day life where I have a lot of land and tons of money to fund this kind of event. The scene is a not atypical for here in the south: big field, bonfire, beverages, cars/trucks parked everywhere, maybe 150 people total, country music coming from someone's open car. And I am single but all my girlfriends are there. I am, however, the only person with skin that is not white.
Everything was going well. It was actually pretty fun. I was throwing the party so I may have been a little anxious and oblivious to the fact that people were keeping me at a distance when they could but, then, this happens:
I sit down around the bonfire with my drink as everyone else is in the process of doing. One by one, people walk up and sit down on the other side of the circle from me. One guy comes up and sits down by me but he gets settled and looks at me. Smiles of the uncomfortable nature cross his face and he pretends to know someone on the other side of the circle so he can move. My aforementioned girlfriends are sitting to my left but to my right there is a gaping whole of empty space. This goes on for ten minutes in my dream until some well meaning girl crosses from the other side of the fire saying, "Oh, come on now!", sits down beside me and apologizes for them and I feel many things: powerless, worthless, conflicted, disappointed.
I do something that I never do in real life. I stood up and screamed a command seasoned with a few expletives for everyone to leave my property. The people around me know exactly why and shamefully walk to their cars/trucks. The rest who are still walking up to the fire don't. No one asks why (it was as if the people from around the fire explained as they passed them leaving) but one guy comes up to me and asks why and if I am okay. My answer: "Racism." The tears flow and I woke up.
I don't talk about this much. There are people with whom I NEVER talk about this area of my life. Even typing this alone in my room, I feel uncomfortable seeing my words on the screen.
In Pitch Perfect, the overweight girl named Patricia goes by Fat Amy. When asked why, she says she does this so skinny girls won't call her that behind her back anyway. Painful. That is one of the most painful jokes for me in the whole movie because I have been that person when it comes to my race, making jokes about it or laughing at other people's jokes to make it seem easier to be the only person of color in my community most days.
I don't want that for my child (who may not even turn out to have dark skin as time goes on). I don't want that for any child.
When Paul says in Galatians 3:28 that it doesn't matter if we are slave, or free, or Jew, or Greek, or male or female because we are ALL ONE in Christ Jesus, his statement was revolutionary. That same sentiment should not be revolutionary today. It should be normal. It should be so inherent in our society that this blog is superfluous.
But the past hangs on so tightly. In the South, we love our heritage and our legacy. I include myself in that because I love and am proud to be from the South. There is so much that is great about it. And I have more awkward racial moments sitting alone watching tv shows that make terrible jokes than I do in public these days (for which I am thankful). But racism is still a frequent dilemma for me here.
I don't know why I had that dream. It isn't unlike dreams I have had in the past. In real life, a boy told his friend in the sixth grade he wouldn't be my boyfriend because I wasn't white though he really liked me. I'm sure it has stopped people since then but I didn't need to be with any of them so I am glad. I have a husband and a life that I LOVE but I also fear deep down that someone new that I meet won't like me before they even get to know me.
I heard a middle school boy say that he hates black people last night at the movies. He didn't see me and he wasn't talking about me. Honestly, I am Ethiopian American, first generation immigrant on my mother's side while my dad's family (Caucasian) has lived down south since before the Civil War ever happened. But to hear a child say that so flippantly in 2014...
This was long and off the cuff and not edited so I apologize if my thoughts are half said or my grammar is bad or if I misspelled twenty words. None of that matters. Let's get over the real issues. Don't joke about race, size, or anything that identifies a part of someone that makes them different. They may not say anything, they may even laugh, but they may go home and have a very sad dream as well.
I just woke up from a sad dream. One that I hope my daughter never has. She is actually sleeping close by and I pray in this moment she will never experience the dream I just had.
I was throwing a party in some strange alternate version of my present day life where I have a lot of land and tons of money to fund this kind of event. The scene is a not atypical for here in the south: big field, bonfire, beverages, cars/trucks parked everywhere, maybe 150 people total, country music coming from someone's open car. And I am single but all my girlfriends are there. I am, however, the only person with skin that is not white.
Everything was going well. It was actually pretty fun. I was throwing the party so I may have been a little anxious and oblivious to the fact that people were keeping me at a distance when they could but, then, this happens:
I sit down around the bonfire with my drink as everyone else is in the process of doing. One by one, people walk up and sit down on the other side of the circle from me. One guy comes up and sits down by me but he gets settled and looks at me. Smiles of the uncomfortable nature cross his face and he pretends to know someone on the other side of the circle so he can move. My aforementioned girlfriends are sitting to my left but to my right there is a gaping whole of empty space. This goes on for ten minutes in my dream until some well meaning girl crosses from the other side of the fire saying, "Oh, come on now!", sits down beside me and apologizes for them and I feel many things: powerless, worthless, conflicted, disappointed.
I do something that I never do in real life. I stood up and screamed a command seasoned with a few expletives for everyone to leave my property. The people around me know exactly why and shamefully walk to their cars/trucks. The rest who are still walking up to the fire don't. No one asks why (it was as if the people from around the fire explained as they passed them leaving) but one guy comes up to me and asks why and if I am okay. My answer: "Racism." The tears flow and I woke up.
I don't talk about this much. There are people with whom I NEVER talk about this area of my life. Even typing this alone in my room, I feel uncomfortable seeing my words on the screen.
In Pitch Perfect, the overweight girl named Patricia goes by Fat Amy. When asked why, she says she does this so skinny girls won't call her that behind her back anyway. Painful. That is one of the most painful jokes for me in the whole movie because I have been that person when it comes to my race, making jokes about it or laughing at other people's jokes to make it seem easier to be the only person of color in my community most days.
I don't want that for my child (who may not even turn out to have dark skin as time goes on). I don't want that for any child.
When Paul says in Galatians 3:28 that it doesn't matter if we are slave, or free, or Jew, or Greek, or male or female because we are ALL ONE in Christ Jesus, his statement was revolutionary. That same sentiment should not be revolutionary today. It should be normal. It should be so inherent in our society that this blog is superfluous.
But the past hangs on so tightly. In the South, we love our heritage and our legacy. I include myself in that because I love and am proud to be from the South. There is so much that is great about it. And I have more awkward racial moments sitting alone watching tv shows that make terrible jokes than I do in public these days (for which I am thankful). But racism is still a frequent dilemma for me here.
I don't know why I had that dream. It isn't unlike dreams I have had in the past. In real life, a boy told his friend in the sixth grade he wouldn't be my boyfriend because I wasn't white though he really liked me. I'm sure it has stopped people since then but I didn't need to be with any of them so I am glad. I have a husband and a life that I LOVE but I also fear deep down that someone new that I meet won't like me before they even get to know me.
I heard a middle school boy say that he hates black people last night at the movies. He didn't see me and he wasn't talking about me. Honestly, I am Ethiopian American, first generation immigrant on my mother's side while my dad's family (Caucasian) has lived down south since before the Civil War ever happened. But to hear a child say that so flippantly in 2014...
This was long and off the cuff and not edited so I apologize if my thoughts are half said or my grammar is bad or if I misspelled twenty words. None of that matters. Let's get over the real issues. Don't joke about race, size, or anything that identifies a part of someone that makes them different. They may not say anything, they may even laugh, but they may go home and have a very sad dream as well.
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