👊🏾WHAT IT'S LIKE TO LOOK RACIALLY AMBIGUOUS AND HAVE NO CLUE
Loosely inspired by @olivia_michele
- •I am a black girl. I always thought I looked like a black girl.My mom calls our family the rainbow coalition. We are so many shades and we all come from the same place. I never felt anything but black. Ever.
- •Here's a photo of my mom, sister, cousins, and aunt at a standard family reunion. Everyone in this picture is full black.This isn't the only way I thought black people looked. But this is enough of a reason for me to never question that I look like a black girl. I'm the tall one in the brown shirt.
- •The other side of my family had more range in shades, and again, I was always light, but never stood out.See, its not that easy to find me! I'm super black you guys! (Far right, my arm is half cut off in the crop)
- •I was raised in the suburbs. Mostly white people as far as the eye can see. But, the key here is they were PC.I grew up in Austin Texas in the 90's. No one was going to point out that I didn't fit in somewhere. People were super chill. Also, I was a very charismatic kid. It was very difficult not to like me. Until 3rd grade when I became a pill. But that's another story.
- •Here's the kid no one was going to be mean toThis brings up another point. My hair was treated just like every other black girl. My mom put grease on it and gave me relaxers for years.
- •In high school I hung out with the black kids (all ten of us) and the mixed kids.I just gravitated towards people who didn't really look a certain race. They were usually the most open minded and I think that's the most important quality in a friend. Not black/white mixed by the way. Just any two or more races/nationalities. My BFF is Malaysian, Mexican and English. Another BFF is Cuban, Chinese, and Jewish.
- •I went to an all black college for one semester. I left because it was in the country. But it was hard to be told I was the "other".I spent 12 years at a white school district where half the black student population were my relatives. But at Grambling, I stood out. I hated standing out. I'm a blender. They knew exactly how many white freshman were enrolled and they'd ask if I was #7. "Hey white girl!" They'd say.
- •I couldn't do anything to prove to them I was black. My roommate even braided my hair to see if that would help.It didn't. I had never in my life tried to be a black girl. All people have to do is speak to me and they will instantly know. Right? Without my family around, do I have anything to "prove" my blackness?
- •I transferred to a school with a mix of students. My sister went to college 45 minutes away and pledged a black sorority. She had been on the same journey herself. Proving we are black.I arrived to a school where people already knew my name and my story. I stopped explaining myself. I was just as black as I needed to be. I dated only black guys though, it didn't make sense for me to look elsewhere. I only included this picture because I never looked this good before or after that exact moment. It's not at all relevant to the story.
- •The cycle never ends, but I get a bit better at not caring. Or better at getting some sun.My dad likes to make a habit of visiting my new jobs just so they know without having to ask. [Pictured with black Santa, our only kind of Santa]
- •"Are you Italian?"
- •"Are you Tongan?"
- •"Are you Puerto Rican?"
- •Nope! Say it loud. I'm black and I'm proud 😉