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Reflective Essay On Racial Identity

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If I were to write a memoir highlighting issues of racial identity in my life, I would talk about my experiences living in rural Iowa, my interactions with my family in Chicago after I moved to Iowa, and the pressure I felt to work hard in order to break stereotypes which affected how I viewed myself as a black person.
My racial identity shaped who I was when I lived in Iowa. My sister and I were the only black children within a 50 mile radius. It did not help that we lived in poor conditions. That only solidified the stereotypes that were tied to me as a black person. I was called “n****r” girl and looked at weird. The teachers gave me looks of pity. I felt alone. My mother was in her own world of picking up the pieces of our broken life that landed us in that foreign town to begin with. I was seen as a charity case. People wanted to house me, befriend me, and aid me because it would be doing society a service. My mother’s friend who I lived with for 2 months treated my sister and I as though we were her personal babysitters, her tax write-offs. She talked about possibly making us her foster children. Not because she wanted a good home for us, but because she could get paid to do it. I was seen as property. She came from a background of prejudice and the insensitive Aunt Jemima figurines and racial remarks only solidified her intentions. Even though she would say, “I can’t be racist. I’m taking care of two black kids”, her actions were driven by race. These instances of

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