Rishire Writes

I might be venturing into dangerous territory with this topic, but I’ve been curious about it for quite some time. I am an African American young woman who grew up around Caucasian people. I went to a private school in the south for seven years and now attend a private college in the north. I love the way I grew up, but it’s got me wondering–how should people really classify race and ethnicity? Obviously there’s the whole skin color factor, but beyond that I don’t think there should be that great a distinction between different races. We are all humans; we all have skin, bones, and internal organs; we all put our pants on one leg at a time, and yet I feel as though a lot of people perceive a difference between races that goes beyond melatonin. Being a black girl raised in a predominantly white world, I’m going to focus on those races.

I’m no anthropologist or sociologist or anything like that, but it doesn’t take a genius to see that some stereotypes have taken over the classification of races. I may not be using that word correctly, but bare with me, I’m trying to make a point. This may only be my own personal point, but hey, this is my own personal blog! When I think of the way people think of black peopel, heck, when I think of black people, I automatically think of ghetto-ness. I don’t mean to be offensive in any way, but it’s just what happens. I’m black; I’m not “ghetto,” but I feel like that’s kind of the assumption. No, I don’t think people look at random black people and think, “Oh, well that person obviously talks with an oddly deep voice and uses an uneducated vernacular,” but I do kind of think that imaging a group of black people takes you there. I’m black, and it takes me there!

Having grown up with mostly white people, the only black people I knew being my own family members and some fellow minority students, I was kind of scared of black people. I saw them as slang talking, pants sagging, cursing, abrasive people. I’m not sure where I got that image from, because I haven’t actually encountered anyone like that, but it was an image that scared me away from HBCUs (Historically Black Colleges and Universities) during admission time and groups of public school kids I would occasionally see on the streets of my neighborhood. The more I thought of how those stereotypes disfigured my perception of my own race, the more I considered myself and the way I came across to people. Did I seem less educated just because of the color of my skin? Were people automatically afraid that I was going to mug them or something because I was black? Did my enunciated speech surprise anyone who didn’t know me? If I had to answer those questions about an African American stranger, I’m afraid some of the answers would be yes.

Living in the south and having been taught a good bit about slavery from my one and only African American teacher at my southern private school, I was honestly terrified of racism. I didn’t think any of the kids at my school or any of the other schools were racist; I was just afraid their parents might be. It’s something that I have left behind in the south because of their confederate past and all that. I do feel noticeably more at ease in the north, but the question still remains–Am I constantly being judged?

The term “oreo” has been known as a pejorative word for black people who act white. The fact that there is a term to describe eloquent, well-mannered, African American people, makes it a bit obvious that those adjectives are not normal terms for describing black people. To say that we are “acting white” just because we talk in a certain way that people wouldn’t assume a black person would talk is quite offensive. Last time I checked, it was my skin color that made me black, not the way I act or what I think. Despite believing that about myself, I can’t help but fall into the same trap of judgement. Although some black people have created a sort of culture of “ghetto-ness” for a lack of a better word, it doesn’t actually define us at all. There’s nothing “oreo” about being who you are, no matter your skin color. Chew on that. (See what I did there? Cookie pun? No? Whatever!)