As an African child growing up in the United States, life was not always easy. Whether you were born here or moved to America at some point in your childhood, you've felt this struggle at some point.
1. Having your name mispronounced in school, work, doctor's office, etc. I gave up on having my last name pronounced correctly back in 5th grade. It's honestly not that hard to pronounce, you're just not listening to me.
2. Being asked ignorant questions. The questions I've been asked get more and more ridiculous as I've grown up. "Do people live in huts still?" "Do you own a pet elephant?" "Do you know how to speak African?" "How did your English become so well-spoken?" No, people do not live in huts. Owning a pet elephant is probably illegal. African is not a language and I was born in the United States.
3. Being bullied for being African. The minute people find out you're African, they either think it's cool or you get made fun of for it. One common name that every African child living in the US has heard is African booty scratcher. It's the reason I stopped wearing traditional clothes to school when I was younger. You know it's bad when even a teacher starts questioning/teasing the clothing you are wearing. Some fellow Africans have even had people start making clicking noises at them. The funniest part about it is that the same people who used to make fun of us for being African, are walking around wearing dashikis and talking about "feeling closer to their roots".
4. Strict parents. While every culture has strict parenting style, I believe Africans have a bit of an interesting parenting style. For example, being punished the way that your parents were punished in school (e.g, kneeling while keeping your arms up in the air, having your ears pulled as they lecture, etc.). One joke made to them can be turned into a three hour lecture about school, life and the future.
5. Being told "there's rice at home". Some parents will pull into a McDonald's drive thru real quick when their kids say "Let's go to McDonalds!" However, every African kid knows not to even mention a fast food place because the immediate response is "there's rice at home". To any African parent that reads this, I'm letting you know that maybe I don't want to eat the pilau/jollof rice that's been sitting in the ice cream bucket in the freezer for the past five weeks, maybe I want to eat something else other than rice every day. Am I going to tell you that your face? No, I do not have a death wish.
