I remember being in my body and not really feeling like I belonged. Not in my body-body, but in the new town I was living in. There were these beautifully shiny kids looking back at me with such grim curiosity. The teachers didn't really know what to do with me. At first, I thought, it was because they were disgusted. Now that I look back I think that glare was caused by fear. People were as beautiful as they were intimidating, I wish I was able to explain myself and my actions but my language was as foreign to them as theirs was as foreign to me. Disneyland wasn't around the corner, buildings weren't as tall as the sky, instead I was surrounded by an endless un-enchanted forrest--America wasn't what I thought it would be.
I remember feeling like a turtle and analyzing every little thing that was going on around me. I may not have known exactly what was going on, but I made assumptions. I slowly started picking up on the language, the culture, the way the other kids interacted with each other, and the way the teachers interacted with everyone else. I think racism only hurt me in the short term of my childhood, because it definitely prepared for the world I'm living in today. I understand where people come from, and why they think what they think. I may not always agree, but lately I'm starting to feel like I'm racist myself. Racist against the Whites.
I had a dream of being in this open field and watching the bullies I went to school with and watching their every move and thinking "God, that's such a White thing to do." It still happens today. White people problems or white jokes or I don't know White culture things. It all roots back to the bullying because as much as that scarred me, it made me strong. I was called a boy because of the way I dressed (I wore jean shorts and a colorful t-shirt from Old Navy), and people would just pick on me for no reason. Granted I am weird and quiet, but I never did anything to them to prompt such flare of childish emotions. The girls were like catty bitches who could smell the fear off of me. I didn't know how to respond to it. I just took it all in. But now every time I experience some sort of prejudice against me, I just forgive them cause they're White. I forgive the circumstances because they're White. They're all already being punished today, so I thought I'd take it easy on them. But see THAT makes me uncomfortable, because I am fighting for equality, I am fighting for diversity, and I will make a difference. I look back at my bullies and their community college/substance addiction/early motherhood/stuck in that small town life. I hate myself for loving that, since life is so hard, but I guess that's what I do when I run into 'emotional' points in my life.
My life is ran with as much fear as it is with as much courage. I try to let courage wins but sometimes the White People Anxiety is too real. I'm not against White people at all, it was just one of those wrong place, bad time kind of moment.
I write, you read, we friends.