What Happened to the Color Grey?

In the spirit of MLK Day, I thought I'd write about how far I believe the world as come in regards to race...and how far we still have to go.

I am not going to throw out facts from 300 years ago or generalize on any ethnicity in general but I will speak about what I know best, my own personal experiences.

When I was a kid, my parents did the best they could to put my brother and I in schools and situations that were best for us and to provide as many opportunities as they could. I was often the only black kid, let alone black girl, in all of my classes up until about 6th grade.  I was too young to realize the difference in skin color and when I did, I struggled to understand why it mattered.  While living in New Jersey a boy from school asked, "Is your mom an Albino?", that was my first time hearing that word so naturally I went home and asked my mother if she were indeed an Albino.  Yes, I always knew my mother was lighter than me, but so was my brother - who was also a hair bit darker than my mother, and I'm lighter than my father...no one in my immediate family shared the same skin tone...so if my mother was an Albino than what were we?  After my mother explained the definition of an Albino and that she was not one, she then explained how African Americans come in different "shades".  I struggled to even understand that as I was too young still to learn the lesson of the birds and the bees.

I didn't notice anything different regarding race since then until 6th grade, when Tenisha Boomer entered the class and I was no longer the only black kid.  Now granted Tenisha and I didn't look alike, she was of a much darker shade than I was and much more reserved than I was...yet the teacher had trouble telling us apart.  Grades were mixed up, attendance records were mixed up and I was often called by the wrong name.  When my parents confronted the teacher about this I was told her response was something along the lines of, "It's hard to keep them straight". This again I didn't understand...none of the other kids were mixed up and they favored each other more than Tenisha and I did.  But oh well, stupid teacher, what did she know anyway.

It wasn't until middle school, when cliques started to form that I really began to understand the magnitude and "meaning" that your skin color carried with it.  While kids could be polite and talk to whomever in homeroom or in the halls, who you ate lunch with and who you hung out with seemed to be based more by color than character.  Having not grown up with that mentality, I continued to pick my friends and acquaintances as I always had...by personality. I learned VERY quickly that cliques obviously weren't my thing.  Most of the people within the black cliques didn't like me because I "acted" or "talked" too white (which I still don't know the meaning of) while having too many white friends.  Crazy thing is most of the people within the white cliques didn't like me because I was black - and that came with it's own meaning (which I assume is a stereotype they grew up with). This meant that I had to truly become an individual and I began to be very selective with my true friends.

Then came good ole high school where the rumors just got worse and worse, I was this, I was that, I hated this, only like that, ewww you're a cheerleader, light-skinned blah, good hair yuck, etc... and on top of all that B.S I had my first encounter with the KKK which lead to what the media called a race riot at our school. That was beyond comprehension for me and I sure as well wasn't going to take the actions of a few close-minded people and apply it to an entire race. Within a year so following, I had my first white boyfriend and rumors spread like wildfire, I didn't "like" black people all of a sudden especially black men AND I considered myself, "too good" as I heard through the grapevine.  My boyfriend even broke up with me two months in because the rumors and stares got so bad every where we went.  Even the one day we spent at Six Flags we had people yelling obscene things at us. I was so confused of why this was a big deal?! I mean hell, my brother dated white and black girls and school and went onto marry a white woman with two kids. My sister-in-law and nieces were white and I never once saw anything wrong with that or second guess it. It was just instant acceptance and love.  Anyway, luckily after a month (with the support of his family) my boyfriend came around, we got back together, and endured what ever was said about both of us. During that time however, I lost my closest friendships with my black friends...which was devastating.  Those that should have known me best were now talking shit and spreading rumors along with those who didn't know me at all...and all because I chose to date this particular guy?  For the entire first year I was treated as though I'd stepped outside some imaginary boundary.  Luckily I found a person who didn't see color as well, and she was going through the same thing I was only she was Brazilian (as she doesn't like to be referred to as white or any other "color") and her boyfriend was black, but his family wasn't so supportive. I began to retreat into this bubble that consisted mostly of only my friend and my boyfriend...whatever anyone else had to say or think didn't matter anymore.  Luckily things got better as time went on, my relationship was becoming more accepted...or just tolerated, the name calling stopped, the staring stopped, and even the outside world seemed  be more accepting. Regardless, I will always friend who I want and date who I want!

Those experiences prepared me for the few close-minded people I would encounter later in the world. Sure I've dealt with harassment by Statesboro cops in college and I've run into minor slurs etc at previous jobs, but the point is they are becoming far and few.  It seems the older I get, the more it doesn't matter to people at large.  There are still minor stereotypes that come and go...but they are light years from what I heard this side of 15 years ago...and I am happy about that.

It's a slow lesson to learn...and I hope it's a lesson that is being passed down to children today as it was to me. The world can focus so much on black or white as if it were wrong or right sometimes... and it misses the many shades of grey.

"Life is a Fiesta"

Grabbing a bite to eat at the Mexican restaurant up the street from my house proved to be filling in multiple ways.  While we were finishing up our Churros and ice cream the manager walks over and thanks us for beginning our new year in his restaurant.

Through my rusty Spanish and his broken English, we talked about the excitement of a New Year and all it holds in store.  Here is what the nice manager said that will definitely stick with me...

Life is exciting and fun, we have to enjoy it.  Don't add the complication, we are the ones who make things difficult and we shouldn't - it's not necessary.
We carry all this baggage and we need to just take it off.
Live the life - enjoy the ride...
Life is a Fiesta!

Every word is so true...we complicate our own lives and add stress on top of stress and often where it is not needed.

This year, simply enjoy your life as it comes, enjoy every up and down in stride!