Racism. What a sad, sh*tty, sticky era we're still in living in today. How do we break free from this? How do we train our minds to see one another as human beings, as people with homes and backgrounds and lives and minds, rather than categories of color? How do we reverse the last 600 years in order to better ourselves, our communities, our world?
I've grown up white. My neighborhood is white, my friends are primarily white, my family is white. But I would like to consider myself as transparent. I would like to be seen as colorless. I would like to be recognized not by my color, race, ethnicity—but my spirit, character, and mind. But you know who wishes this even more? Black people.
Have you ever been racially profiled? Have you ever had a store clerk look at you funny, teachers treat you differently, or a cop brutally beat and arrest you for a minor traffic violation?
If you're white, probably not.
If you've never experiences these things and don't know how it feels to be defined or discriminated against for who you are, be grateful. But more importantly: be mindful. Be mindful and aware that there are people who unfortunately face these realities every day. The explosion of police brutality against blacks in the past year is not coincidental, it's not episodic, it's the sad and scary truth of the world we reside in today. "But wait!" they say. "We have a black president! We've come a long way!" Coming a long way is great, it's essential to our present and our progress. But I want to go a longer way. I want to live in a colorless world.
This semester, I registered for Intro to Black American Studies. The first day of class, I walked into our room to find myself surrounded by people not of my descent. I was 1/4 of the white population in this classroom. For the first time, I felt extremely aware of my presence. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel some type of discomfort, or apprehension. I wish I could say I didn't feel this way. But then I realized, thankfully only taking me 15 minutes, that for the first time I was the minority. I am 19 years old, I have gone to school for 15 years, and this was my first time being one of only a few people of my race. I cannot say the same for my black classmates. When I told my best friend this, who happens to be black, he chuckled and said he had "never entered a classroom where he wasn't the minority." Although he laughed, my heart broke for him. I toyed with this for a long time.
Overall, it is naive and just plain senseless to propose that racism is not prevalent today. And if you're white and you think that, let me tell you something: you don't have the right. You don't have the right to speak for black people, to judge or comment on their response to their injustices, to label and group them as "angry." You know what? If I was born black, I would be angry too. But I would be proud. I would be proud because that means I am resilient. Because that means my ancestors endured and overcame the most inhumane justices known to man. That means despite my setbacks and differences, my people as a whole have strived and succeeded infinitely in music, in art, in many ways I may not even recognize. A month into school, when I go into my Black American studies classroom, I don't feel noticed. I don't feel discomfort—I feel welcomed. I have recently become a fan of N.W.A, not because of their sky rocketing movie sales or their profane language, but because of their fight. Because of their spirit. These people were labeled as criminals, but I see them as reformers. Watching the scenes where the police are interacting with the black characters from "Straight Outta Compton" made me cringe, gave me chills, because the scenes were all too similar to the countless videos I have watched on my laptop this past year. It pained me to see we still struggle with this violence perpetuated against blacks today. But you know what? I am not worried. Because black people are fighters. Black people are smart, they are relentless, they are culturally beautiful. I am glad to be living in a world with black people, and I pray for the day black people can say the same about me. Until then, I will just have to write articles like these, and create visions of a colorless world.
