Too Black For Some, Not Black Enough For Others

Growing up, my hair texture, skin color, and eye color was the subject of much conversation. My lighter complexion, finer hair texture, longer hair length, and lighter eyes always made me less Black in the eyes of many in my community (despite my broad, African nose and hips). Still, I am often asked "Are those your real eyes?", "Is that your real hair?", or "Are you mixed?" Honestly, the latter of the three questions always bothered me most. Yes, I have Irish, Cherokee, African, and Apache heritage, but I consider myself African-American by all  standards (I mean, come on...I haven't seen hips and a butt like mine out of Ireland). Truth be told, I always felt like those questions proved how ignorant people are. You'd be hard-pressed to find anyone who isn't "mixed" these days...especially given the history of our people and this country.

Besides my complexion, hair, and eye-color, the way I speak has kept people buzzing. When I worked the drive-thru window at a fast food restaurant, I took a young Mexican-American lady's order through the intercom. When she drove around to the window, she yelled "Damn, girl! I thought you were a White girl!"  I wish I had a nickel for every time I heard "you sound White" or "you talk like a White girl". This came from people of varying ethnicities, but more frequently left the mouths of my fellow Black brothers and sisters. Yes, I speak like I am educated. Yes, I enunciate when I talk. Yes, I use proper grammar when conversing with others in public settings. Since when did we decide that speaking properly was a White trait? Because I
 spoke a certain way, I had been labeled an "oreo" since the fifth grade...Black on the outside, but White on the inside.

Let me tell you something you likely don't know about me. By the time I got to college, I decided I was tired of my ethnicity being called in the question. I didn't want to be seen as the privileged "house nigger". So...what did I do? I started tanning. Yes, I got funny looks the first time I stepped into the tanning salon for a membership. Honestly, it sounded a bit foolish to me too, but I felt that if I was darker I would earn my "Black card" back. I tanned quite regularly for three months. My tan was beautiful, but the satisfaction soon wore away. I knew that I couldn't change my hair or eyes...and I most certainly was not going to lower my standards for communication. I had to be proud of who I was despite what I felt was negativity. I had to proudly flaunt the beautifully mixed genes that were passed down to me. I had to speak eloquently to those who didn't have anything positive to say. I had to be who God made me to be...ME!