I am more entertained by the lifespan of this label than I am by its application to me. Living in Newark wasn't the best, but I made it through, and out. That's right! At age 14, I was in boarding school. Contrary to public belief, I was not sent away to a military camp, nor was I being punished because I was uncontrollable. I went, voluntarily, because I had the potential to be even greater than what my elementary school teachers already saw inside of me. I loved reading and writing, singing and acting, dancing and jumping rope. Going to high school, that all stayed the same, but coming home on vacations - to Newark - was different, as my friends and family, on numerous occasions, could no longer recognize me to be the same person who left. I was the Oreo; a white girl in a black girl's body.
My tone of voice sounded different because it had changed. According to the a cappella group that would not accept me my first year due to my raspy-soloist voice, I needed to blend in with the rest of the girls. Joining a choir of predominately white students did the trick! I was a black-pure vocals kind of girl. Any chance of me being like Jazmine Sullivan was suddenly out of the question. My enunciation was noticeable amongst people at home and I could tell that it made some uneasy. You could hear it in my words that I wanted all consonants and vowels to be heard. And thats hur-d, with a capital D. I played sports unknown to many in my neighborhood. Squash was the one that caught them all out of left field. No one knew Squash to be a thing other than a vegetable that was never on sale at the local Shoprite unless it was during the Thanksgiving holiday can-can sale. I had added so many changes to the scaffolding that I originally left home with to the point where no one seemed to understand me.
Clearly, I am not Caucasian. I never have been, nor will I ever be. I missed that opportunity at birth when the DNA from my parents came out 100% A-American. The thing is also that I do not have the desire to be anything other than what I am. But, to the girl who is confused about who she is.. yes: the black white girl....
Realize that you come from a line of beautiful people who would be highly offended if you had any desire to be anything else. Yes, I'm talking about the girl who is clearly not mixed, but uses gel at any chance she can get to twirl a curl that she got from doing a two-strand twist and calls it natural. I'm talking about the girl who praises Starbucks coffee when deep down, she's a Mcdonald's 99 cent coffee kind of girl. I'm talking about the one who says "like" 25 million times in a sentence, knowing damn well that it doesn't take that long to get one thought together. I'm talking about the girl who has a deep accent from the Caribbean and says that it is only attributed to her parents frequent 'visits' to the place, and not because that is where she is from. I'm talking about the girl who wears labels to defend the theory of her whiteness to impress others rather than the OldNavy bargains her parent's saved up for. The girl who feels entitled. The girl who hides her curves, and only socializes with one race. The girl who is so deep into her own lies that she actually believes she's pulling it off. FYI, this is not me. To the girl who is, please wake up and know that at the end of the day, everyone else can see the difference.
Best,
MM :)
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