I’ll never forget the time I desperately signed up for a terrible night shift at Toys R Us. During the minuscule lunch-break (or whatever the technical term was), my co-workers sat down and talked about everything---as much shit you could fit in a 15 minute window. The one time I opened my mouth and said something---the one time I felt comfortable, everyone paused. The silence was almost painful, I was ill equipped at breaking it. With Swiss-watch precision, one of the girls asked me a question that’s been around since the dawn of time: “Why you tryin to sound white?” Fortunately for her, I wasnt confrontational and chose not to answer. To a certain degree, questions like that don’t require a response because any explanation wouldve been too much for her to handle… and we only had 15 minutes. I didnt feel the need to be responsible for her, culturally. Yknow, there was only one time in my life when I thought I was white. Just one time. A lady at a daycare center kept telling me I wasnt black because, well… she was racist and had issues with lighter complexions. Maybe her mind couldnt comprehend the pale genetic monstrosity she was paid to look after. The only thing she could do was separate me from the other children with daily reminders that I was different. Of course, once my mom caught wind of that, she straightened her out pretty good. Sadly, the damage was done… At that age, I was still checking under the bed for Skeletor. Hand on the bible, I was positive that Cookie Monster wasnt a muppet. Hell, I even believed clouds were made out of cotton, so you can bet your ass I took that lady seriously. Up to that point, I never had any race-related conversations with my parents. Ideally, we all shouldnt have to, but… Oh, no! Oh, God, no!! Im sounding white again... The horror!! Apparently, I’ve suffered this condition for quite some time. I cant help it, my blackness was revoked in 84!
Posted on: Wed, 23 Jul 2014 20:47:01 +0000
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