Black. B-L-A-C-K. You would never think just one word could cause such mental distress. You would never envisage to be called a racial slur because of your political beliefs. Since my family voted for someone who wanted to give the people more hope and opportunities, I’m a ‘coon’ or another racial slur or the most mind-boggling one, ‘Black girl’. B-L-A-C-K. At the time, I never understood but, the more I matured, I came to a realization that I abhor because of the hue of my skin. A snivel in the bathrooms; A constant sob; Shortness of breath; Breathe in, then, breathe out; Huff and puff; Wheeze repeatedly. “You can’t go back out there I thought,” “They do not like you, Jaydlyn. You’re typical. Trying to understand politics but you’re just a Black girl. B-L-A-C-K. “Stop putting your nose in everything, leave it to the white folks” was a sustained thought, especially when I was the only Black girl in private school. I felt that I was nothing compared to them. They were smarter, wealthier, and whiter; how could I possibly feel comfortable?
The year was 2012. I recall the first day of school like it was yesterday. Hideous glares from girls I thought would soon be my friend. I felt like an animal at the zoo, never felt welcomed either. “Is that your real hair?” as I put my hair in a ponytail to participate in the gym with students who admitted to not picking me on their team because I was a Black girl. They must’ve thought all black girls are aggressive and mean. Purposely excluding me in conversations about topics only ‘their kind can understand.’ Although their behavior continued for my whole school year, one event stayed with me forever and I’ll never forget it.
Barack Obama vs Mitt Romney posters was made for the upcoming election for the 2012 presidency. Obama will obtain his second term while Romney has his first. On the posters, Romney had very settle and realistic features. Peachy cream skin, blue eyes, small nose, pink lips, with gray and black hair, ‘wow’ I thought. ‘This is pretty cool.’ That was until I turned around to see Obamas’ poster. Honey brown skin, huge black chain smoker lips, ears that could possibly fly him off the white poster of racism and a gigantic shiny nose. I wondered if that was how Caucasians viewed us African Americans or, did they teach that at home? My principal didn’t see anything wrong, especially when we held our own election. My principal made the school hold the ‘fake election’ so we can understand the voting process. I voted for Obama because my parents did. I never understood politics and never wanted to. All my old school taught me is that politicians are liars.
After the ‘fake election,’ I would sit on the monkey bars with friends who were brainwashed by the political views and the lack of interest for the lower class. My associate and I had a conversation that changed my life forever. She called me a racial slur and asked who I voted for. When I told her Obama, she called me a “coon black girl” then somehow fixed her mouth to ask if it was because he was black. I could feel my anger coming from somewhere but I never expressed it. I ignored her and asked who she voted for. She and her friends said, “Mitt Romney.” They said his name over and over like a broken record. I then asked if it was because he was white and she refused to answer; she didn't want to discuss her political beliefs. That was the last time I ever heard from her, I definitely got the last word. From that point on, I was positive that I was hated for my choice, color, and political beliefs that have been passed down to me.
Instead of complaining to the principal, I headed straight to the computer with the need to teach myself politics. From that night, I learned a lot but also found a better interest called, “Black Politics.” Black Politics covers information, beliefs, and ideologies that happen within black communities. It gives us pride, self-love, and a black voice to the voiceless. I remember reading the articles and coming to the realization that studying my history and changing the world for blacks everywhere was my calling. I discerned that understanding regular politics and black politics can change lives forever because it changed mine. I gained black pride and love for myself and race. I would never think a Catholic school would have such hate and ignorance that is masked within the skin and the hate of the loveless. Ignorance doesn't have a color. I learned that ignorance and hatred come in all shapes and sizes and colors. I'm a Black girl; Not only did me as a Black girl find a new concept of the ignorant world but, I found a love for my race, culture, and politics. I love this Black girl.