Personal Narrative: Color Blind

I grew up in a typical southern town that was majority Christian and White. I saw a lot a of faces like mine on a daily basis and got most of my information about others from those familiar faces. Coming to college was quite a change, as I was introduced to almost every race within the first week living on my hall. I can remember meeting people of races that I had only heard about in my hometown and imminently making assumption about them based on my stereotypes. For a long time, I believed that my views were normal, since that is what I grew up around, but quickly came to realize that what I believed in my automatic attitudes was very wrong. That is when the dissociation started to happen. I would see someone and in my head make a conclusion about them before I even met them; but, would never do anything but be nice and open to getting to know this different person better. Just like the respondents in Blindspot said, “I know these stereotypes quite well, but I don’t for a moment endorse them myself.” This is a statement that I have come to really embrace and has allowed me to get away from my automatic perception of someone to meet many interesting and unique people. I find this to be very encouraging, believing that if I can do it, maybe these stereotypes about others will go away if we as a whole embrace the

I would say we’ve all been stereotyped at some point, be it due to your sex, gender, race, or religious beliefs, the list goes on. Some are blissfully oblivious when in the face of being disrespected and or stereotyped, some just don’t care to look further into the situation. Others simply “take the high road”, doing the right thing even if it’s not easy nor popular in a difficult situation. Most often we can’t help the labels which society places on us, we were born with the skin color we have, our values ingrained into us by our families, and so forth. Personally, I’ve faced stereotypes relating to my race.

Too black for the White kids, yet somehow too white for the Black kids, oh the perils of a cappuccino mixed race kid. But it’s true. My life since I was young, at least younger than my eighteen year old self, has been about which group do I most fit in with. Between the four school changes over the course of twelve years, all in white suburban towns I’ve molded myself into an array of characters.

Stereotypes are unescapable. No matter what part of the world you are at or who you are talking to, everyone has some bias. Claude Steele say’s exactly this in his book “Whistling Vivaldi: How Stereotypes Affect Us and What We Can Do” when he states “ We could all take out a piece of paper, write down the major stereotypes of these identities, and show a high degree of agreement in what we wrote.” His piece addresses the effects of stereotypes, which result in what Steele calls “stereotype threat”. Stereotype threat is being aware that there is an expected behavior or response to a certain part of your identity and being afraid to carry out this expected behavior or response. The threat of proving this stereotype can cause you to lose

I never knew that there was a big social differentiation between who hung out with who dependent upon race. To be very blunt, the ratio of black to white people in my school was about 4:1. I was a very quiet girl especially during my sixth grade year. In seventh grade I began to open up more, but this caused frequent altercations. As people began to know my name I recruited names such as “preppy” and “white girl”. I found the phrase “white girl” to be ironic considering the fact that I am fully Hispanic. When I corrected anyone who believed I was white, I would often get “I didn't know you were mexican, you look like you’re white!”. These accusations and the shocked looks on the faces of those who knew the truth never disappeared. Being a Senior in High-School and knowing most of my fellow classmates, I still frequently get the same comments or faces of those who have never thought twice about my race because I “look white”or I “act white”. Through the years of receiving comments like this, I've come to the realization that these judgements of people based upon their appearance happen all of the time. I will admit to doing this myself and giving the same comments as I have gotten. These racial judgements don't just come with African American or Caucasian

During my freshman and sophomore years of high school I was notorious around campus. I was in band and a class officer. I didn’t play football or basketball. I couldn’t dance or rap. Since I didn’t do these things, several of my classmates began referring me as a “white-black guy” and it really pissed me off. I guess because I spoke with proper grammar, dressed with my pants on my waist, and a kept a high GPA, made me “white”. If I don’t fit the stereotype, then I must not be

“He’s a young Latino what is he doing in this neighborhood? he must be lost, he has to be poor.” that’s just one of the stereotypes I hear often. “Hispanic people are poor” When in fact most Hispanics are well off. Yet repeatedly I have heard that stereotype in movies, songs, shows, and school. I have been through this many times as I have lived up through 19 years of existence. Its something that I have gotten accustomed too.

The worker contacted Misty Black who is a friend of Brittany Hardin. Mrs. Black stated “Brittany was in a situation where her ex (well she told me they were already broken up at the time) had assaulted her. Brittany had called me after Ronita Grady had hit her so I immediately called the police and made my way to Brittany. When I arrived the OCPD were already there speaking to Brittany. The officers also spoke to me and I told him I was the one who called them. After the police left Brittany and the boys stayed with me for a couple days because Brittany was still shaken up. The boys all seemed okay, I don’t think they really knew what had just happened. Brittany thanked me for helping her, because at the time we weren’t really speaking to

Today we live in a world that is a multicultural society. More commonly America is said to be a “melting pot”, meaning that our countries populations are made up of many different cultures and ethnic groups. As people with different cultures come in contact with each other there are external aspects such as food, dress, and language that becomes very evident. Using our own cultures lens we view everything from our cultures perspective thus narrowing our views of others and aiding in the difficulty of communicating with individuals of other cultures and backgrounds. Stereotypes exist within every culture all around the world, this includes, African Americans and White Americans within the United States. When thinking of stereotypes the first

My parents have always taught me that everyone is equal doesn't matter the race, gender, or economic class. Unfortunely stereotyping is among us we cannot avoid it, we can only try our best to make a difference between millions in the world. At a early age we start to doing it without noticing just having groups at school, the cool kids, the nerds and the popular kids. When I was about nine years old we had to move to a different city, I was sad because that meant a new school and friends. The neighborhood we moved into most of the population was African American and Asians this was a new experience for me and my family. My perspective of African American was that they were bad, untrustworthy and criminals. Sometimes

My first recollection of race was daycare. I remember seeing many different skin and eye colors but didn’t understand how they were so much more different than me. I recall asking my mother why I didn’t have green eyes and how my skin color was different. She explained everyone is made differently that’s what makes them unique. My first recollection of racism was in third grade. The nurse came to the classroom to check the classroom for lice. Myself and a few other classmates weren’t checked properly because she didn’t want to touch our hair. Instead of bringing us out individually she called us by a group which made me feel different. Also, I was told it’s impossible to get lice because of the hair products used.

Racial Inequality Situation : A black man in jail thinking about the unfair society I had a pencil the year I came to jail It wore out in a week from writing Penning down my thoughts for all I can Crying in the jail cell counting the bars I sat down on the cold floor with many scars I was all alone No family, no friends, separated from home

I might be white, but I can guaranty you, during my childhood, my family did not fit into the category, of the so called ‘privileged white’. The socioeconomic ladder classified us as ‘poor white trash’, because we were migrant workers that labored in the groves in Florida and the fields and orchards in Michigan. Education, needless to say, was low on the totem pole; therefore at the age of sixteen I dropped out of school. However, when I was twenty-seven a dear friend Mary Updike, who at the time was attending Bryn Mawr College, told me I was wasting my life and should go to college and enhance my common sense with a well rounded education. So I did. And in the eighties – I graduated with a B.A. in History followed with a M.A. in Diplomatic

Whenever I think of my fingers, I think, what’s worse than breaking your nail? My answer is it being smashed off your finger. I was only 8 years old when my thumb was smashed to smithereens, and here is how it all happened.

One Friday night, Brooke Schettler invited me to a movie night at her house. I decided that it would probably be too entertaining to miss out on, so I went. I arrived at Brooke’s house where I sat around for a short while eating candy while talking with the few other people that were there, waiting for the rest of the guests to arrive. I didn’t know that the plan was to watch scary movies. I am not very much of a scary movie person. When I watch scary movies, afterwards I will have nightmares for a week. Even so, I stayed quiet about my discomfort and didn’t say anything while they picked a movie.