Personal Narrative: My Life As A Black Woman

All throughout time people have been “the other.” Pratt refers to the other as being “Someone who is perceived by the dominant culture as not belonging, as they have been

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.

I identify myself as a seventeen year old African American female. I was raised in Washington D.C. in a 5 family member household. I went to an elementary school with Latino and African American students. My mother is from Sierra Leone in West Africa and my father is from Washington D.C. Growing up i was taught to be proud of my heritage and my dark skin tone. My parents taught me that black is beautiful .Contrary in television ads and TV shows they only portray caucasian females as beautiful and smart and African American females as lower class , unintelligent and urban ghetto. While growing up I’ve learned that black features like having a big nose or big lips were seen as unappealing and badlooking but recently there have been trends

I am an African-American male who grew up in a community that was not fortunate enough to have access to many luxuries, especially a computer science education. Seemingly in every aspect of my life, I have been the exception. Many times I was the only African-American student in my Advanced Placement courses in high school, in terms of sports I had always been the sole African-American and the shortest player on all my lacrosse teams, and progressing through school I often times was the only person out of my group of friends who wanted to do something more with the life I was given. People like me are not supposed to escape the cycle of poverty and inequality that plague the community I call home. I am not a product of the ‘projects’ or come

In my own experience, race has never been an issue and hasn’t restricted me in any areas. Being white, however, I may have unknowingly reaped benefits. Due to this, it is sometimes hard to wrap my mind around the obstacles other people run into based on their race. My stance on race has not evolved much from age four to seventeen. However, with information obtained through social media and in-school discussions on the topic, I have come to better understand the views of others on racial issues.

“I'm stuck between who I am, who I want to be, and who I should be.” - Unknown

I interviewed an African American male in his 50s. This means he is in the middle adulthood stage of life. One of the biggest challenges that he faces is being black in America. He seemed to have a whole lot to say about this concept and struggle that he faces. Every day, all over the country, criminal activity is happening at a seemingly higher and higher rate. The evil that inhabits the globe can never be ended. There are few people, still, who choose to try. The police, the government, the news teams, all of these groups of people are supposedly dedicated to awareness and driven to push crime down to a minimum by alerting the people and keeping the peace. A self-governing species as they are, humans are prone to error, fallibility, and imperfection,

Imagine the news headlines filled with nothing but people like you - same hair, skin, defining features - except all the headlines are filled with death. Death at the hands of people we are all taught to trust with our safety. This is how my 2015 summer had been. Days upon days of headlines with black people being killed by “peace” officers. As the list of names grew longer, it became apparent that there was no intention to protect the black community, instead, the public was being “protected” from us. Growing up in a community of minorities, I had come to believe that there was a sense of solidarity in our struggles. I was wrong in thinking our shared status meant unity. At the core of every marginalized community, is a sense of anti-blackness. This harsh realization happened during a class discussion when everyone was throwing into my face that ultimately my feelings and thoughts did matter. I was reminded that I was an other and I stood alone in this fight for my community.

I grew up here in the U.S.A and my parents from the U.S also. I live in an ethnically diverse community that the residents show a deeper understanding of their ancestry’s culture. The term of senses that I witness is sight and audio. Since on the daily basis I hear, people speak other languages such as Spanish, Korean, Chinese, Hindi, Arabic, French, and Japanese. In the term of sight, I see who are from Asian background bow to each, African American nod at each other when walking pass, and people just slight smiling at each other. From my culture since I am African American we really do not that many of greeting each other. We would slight nod or smile and make eye contact or for the males who do a doing the handshake and shoulder bump maneuver.

Every person identity with their known heritage. For myself, I identity myself as African American or black because that is what I have been told for a young age I should identity with. I am envious of everyone who can trace their heritage back and proudly pronounce their ethnic group instead of using a generic term for their racial group. For example, my supervisor is Spanish and German but raised in France. The scenic designer is Portuguese and English. Lastly, an assistant stage manager is British but was raised in American.

First, I’d like to start off this question by saying when I attend Huntington University in the fall of 2016, I plan on starting and participating in a pep band for the home basketball games. As a Horizon Leader, I can offer a different perspective of any stereotypes anyone may have already made. Since I am biracial with White and African American, I am apart of extremely different cultures in my everyday life. As a Horizon Leader I can inform and influence current students on the cultures I am exposed to, that they may not be. As a minority, I feel like it is my job and responsibility to be the representation of the Black community. But not only the black community, but the multiracial community as well, because being multiracial is a culture

In life many times those who come from nothing and excel, neglect the past and forget where they have come from. Oftentimes this comes in the form of disregarding old friendships, shunning once close family members, or even publicly disowning their own culture on national news networks. When reflecting on Mr. Brown’s quote, I am reminded of my own maxim by Marcus Garvey, which states “A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots”. However, I say this not solely within the focus of my Black heritage, but within the context of my home town and school. As I claim the blessings that have been bestowed upon me, I make it my priority to encourage others to reach for the same, if not better. To do so, I have worked hand in hand with my principle to reform my school’s dismal college acceptance rate of 40%. However,

Is it worth being tracked by dogs to become a free person? I am a black woman I've

Life for me hasn’t been the easiest. I am a black woman who has to support her kid. No one ever treats me fairly. My job can barely put food on the table for my handsome 4 year old son who’s name is Grayson. My house is torn up and beat down. My floor is bare with no carpet, my room plain with no bed. My son’s life is half broken by having a white father and a black mother. My deceased husband died trying to save me two months ago when two rich white men came to my house and tried to kill us. I can’t say his name anymore. Saying his name is a just a constant reminder that life for a colored woman is not as clear or perfect as a crystal staircase.

I am Black or African American, however society wants to call it. Sometimes people that because I am a lighter complexion that I have an advantage and that is definitely not the case. Unfortunately, I can remember the first time I was exposed to racism. I was in Wal-Mart with my mother standing in line and to pass time i was reading the cover of the magazines. A Caucasian lady had the nerve to say "that n***** know how to read!" As a child I didn't understand but my mother was irate. That stuck with me for a while, and it doesn't get any better when you go into stores and you are followed because of the color of your skin. At that moment I was old enough to realize what was going on and I walked out the store. I see now what my parents meant