Sunday, July 11, 2010

Am I Black enough for you?

"She's not really Black." I didn't think too much about it when a friend I bowled with a few weeks ago told me that the woman who bowled in the lane next to us said it to him about me. I dismissed it as just her being ignorant, which really it is. However, I've heard this shit since I was a small child. You'd think that adults would get past that. Is it a sign of immaturity that this woman still thinks this way or is that a general consensus amongst full-blooded Black people that I have ignored?


Every other nationality that I interact with considers me Black. Most people don't even know I'm mixed.  Sometimes Asian people notice it around the eyes, but it's pretty obvious by looking at me that I am of African descent. When asked what nationality I am on a form that only gives you one choice, I choose African American.  I often forget that there are Black people who don’t consider me to be “really Black”. Mostly, I don’t hang out with people who say things like that as anything but jesting.

Well anyway, I just wrote it off. I figured I’d never see the woman again. Who cares what some random bowling alley woman thinks, right? Then when I did see her again I felt so disturbed by her. I wanted to say something, but what was there to say? I couldn’t think of anything except, “You’re ignorant”. I didn’t think that would go over very well.

Today, while out shopping with my mom, who is Filipino, I thought about it again. I thought about all the things I do with my hair, which is a strange combination of the two nationalities: frizzy and coarse in the center of my head, but smooth and fine along the edges near my face, ears and neck. I’ve tried texturizers to make the center hair limp so it lays down more similarly to the outer edges. I’ve tried cutting the edges shorter and fluffing the center up so that it makes an afro-type thing that always turns out lop-sided. I‘ve permed and hot-curled for years. “She’s not really Black” felt like I’d been slapped in the face. I mean, is being Black like having some exclusive membership? Is there some unspoken value to being Black that no other races are privy to?

Now I feel kinda sad for bowling alley woman. Living a life filled with labels sounds unnecessarily complicated.

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