1 post tagged “black”

At the risk of sounding like my crappy brother's crappy blog (send private message for linky link... it gets sticky if I link it from here) yes, this entry is about love.  Specific aspects of it, actually.  Today M sent me this link.  As some of you might know, I'm not white, and M is.  And we live in Virginia.  Now, its not so bad as living in, say, Mississippi (even to this day when I type that word I have to spell it out... XD) but Virginia is still a lil racist.  It wouldnt be so bad if I just got it form the inbred white kicks, but I also get it from the very inclusvive (insert: dripping sarcasm) Hispanic populations as well.  Its not alot of fun.  Especially since I grew up away from all of our country's race issues. 

In Europe, Korea, Egypt... there arent manyrace issues.  There are nationality issues.  I had to hide my nationality in Egypt, obviously, for safety reasons (Hell yeah, I'm Canadian!  No one wants to kill a Canadian!)  There wasnt much need to hide anything Korea.  I wasnt Korean.  That was simple, and visible.  However once when I was living in Belgium, on the playground at school, someone called me a nigger.  I was 12ish.  I turned around, looked at them, and said "Ha!  I'm not black!  Shows how much you know."  And I brushed it off.  No big damn deal.  I'm pretty sure the dumbass didnt even know what it meant.  I hadnt exactly been exposed to it on a daily basis, but I knew what it was, and I knew what it meant.  Civil rights, race relations, and the fight for equality were all just terms in my history text book.  Even in high school, when I took AP US History.  It was all theoretical. 

And then I moved to the states. 

I grew up without anyone recognizing my color.  My parents are both white.  I see out of my eyes, and you generally dont sit in front of a mirror scrutinizing your skin color all day.  I assumed I was the same color as them.  Yes, I can see my arms... but I just figured I tanned really nice.  Black people were black.  White people were white.  I'm not black, and my parents are white... so hell.  So am I!  The one snag with this logic... my brother is the same color I am.  I brush it off as, "We got the Indian genes".  In high school, I gravitated towards the freaks and oddballs.  The whole "goth" thing was what pulled me in real good.  Putting on makeup was fun, though.  You really should try making yourself look pale when you're the color of toasted shit.  Fun stuff.  I looked like a dumbass, but that never really bothered me.  Of course, this was entirely out of the question when I moved to Egypt.  I turned much darker.  In fact, there is a picture of me and my friend at high school graduation.  The girls had to wear all white to go with our grad gowns, and I look rigoddamndiculous in that picture  You can see my outfit, and my teeth.  The rest of me in blacked out.  But even with that, I always just never questioned that I was white.

In college, things changed.  (Quick intermission... I just spilled orange strawberry banana juice all over me.  I'm gonna be sticky...)  I wasnt immediately attacked with racism.  It wasnt until I met my future husband that I started to take notice of what was going on.  In the past, I'd always dated white guys, or korean guys, or white guys, or... yep theres another korean guy.  Another white guy.  A really white guy.  Another white guy.  Oo, a Thai guy.  Japakorean guy.  Yep, lots of guys, none of them even resembling my coloring.  Well, one was like... a quarter Lebanese.  Or some fraction.  His mom makes some kick ass Hummus. 

I digress... anyway.  You get my drift.  Its never been a problem.  But for some reason, when I met M, I took quick and immediate attention to the fact that I am... oh I dunno... Not White.  His mother assumed I was black.  His sister asked if I had kinky hair.  I would walk with him in a mall, holding hands, and get stared down by Hispanics.  His niece, I love her, at the tender age of 3 took my hand in hers and said, "Ooo, you're dirty."  I had a gas station attendant refuse to sell me a donut.  I had no clue what was going on... and eventually I saw it.  I put his hand in mine, and looked at us.  Granted, it was summer, and I tend to, like a friggin cameleon, change colors like its no one's buisness.  (I can even feel myself changing colors!)  But I saw it.  He was very much a white dude, and I was very much... not.  Eventually, I got over this issue.  I'm back to my usual, "I'm so totally white!" mentality.  In general, I can make friends on both sides of the color fence.  I dont go out of my way to pick one group over another, rather I just tend to end up with the whiteys. 

Funny thing... when I was filing out my finger print card I was only allowed to put, "White, African-African American, or Asian".  I turned to the black guy sitting with me doing my paperwork and I said, "Dude... what do I put?"  He laughed.  We eneded up googling this card to see if there was an FAQ, and sure enuff... I was told to put down White.  In a way, that made me extremely happy.  In another... why wasnt there a "Hispanic/Latino/Speedy Gonzales" box to check of?  Anyway.  If I ever break the law, the cops will be looking for a white 5'4" chick with black hair (lol... not anymore!).