Being Black

When it comes to being black, I've spent my entire life on the outside looking in. I was separated from my family by divorce. Separated from my peers by labels. And separated from my people by fear.



We fear what we don't know, or have little experience with. Growing up the only black people I knew were those in my family. Like I said in an older post, I grew up 300+ miles away from them in Indianapolis. Indianapolis isn't the most diverse place to live, so I was always around white people. Of course as a kid, this wasn't anything special to me. People were people and the only difference between white and black was the color of their skin. As I grew older, I began to see the contrast between white and black went deeper than that. First (and probably the most prevalent to this day) was the difference in speech. From the time I was a little kid when I went up to visit my family during my breaks I was always made fun of for the way I talked. I was labelled the "white-boy" of the family before I could develop my own identity. I spoke properly as I was taught in school and was made fun of because of it. All the sudden doing what was "right" wasn't positively reinforced. For nine months out of the year it's stressed that I pronounce my "r's" and say "where are you going" instead of "where is you goin." Then for the three months of summer, I'm ridiculed for doing just that. If I had someone to go to, someone who would've just let me be, maybe I would've been ok, but I didn't. Everyone from my cousins to my aunts and uncles had something to say about me being a "white-boy." I can handle people my age, or even a little older making fun of me, but when the adults did it as well, that's what made me feel the most unaccepted. I felt like I wasn't one of them, I wasn't a part of the family, all because of the way I talked. They were black, and even though I wasn't white per se, I wasn't black either. Eventually I even learned that at least one of my cousins didn't even think I was born in Michigan like the rest of them. When you take that and compare it to how I was treated by the white people in Indianapolis, it's not hard to see how I ended up how I am now.

In Indianapolis the focus wasn't on the way I spoke or the color of my skin. My differences between me and my peers were seen in a positive light. My first friend, and "best-friend" in elementary school was a Jewish boy named Adam Schelenski. Honestly, I don't even remember how we became friends or anything, I just remember that for the first time someone accepted me. For some reason even the black kids (I think there were two or three in that class) didn't accept me any more than my family did. Anyway, I found refuge hanging out with the white kids very early on in school. That's where the divide between me and my people first started and continued. In fact, as I got older it only got worse. I was still made fun of by the only black people I knew (my family) and but everything was cool with the white people back in Indy. [Actually there were some black people that accepted me. My best friend to this day, Alex Grant, and his sister and grandparents. They were probably my first black friends. As kids Alex didn't exactly make me feel like the coolest kid around, but I didn't feel like I wasn't good enough to hang out with he and his sister either. His grandmother, as strict as she was with us, always pushed us to do better, and pushed us to untap our potential. I remember going through this phase where I claimed I was crazy (in a good way) and she set me straight real quick. Ignorance wasn't allowed there. I also hung out with a guy named Jarell Ruth during third grade. He, a guy named Jim, and I were in a group lead by a woman named "Ms. Tiny" she was one of the only black professionals in my elementary school. She was also one of the few people in general to make me feel like I could be somebody.] Anyway, back to the topic at hand, once I reached 4th grade (the second time, the first time I decided I wasn't going to do homework, so I had to repeat) I discovered that I was pretty good at math and kept getting put in the highest math classes. These classes maybe had one or two other black kids in them, if that. So again, doing things right created a divide between me and the black kids. This lasted up through 7th grade. Eventually I realized that even though these people accepted me, I had to be something I wasn't in order to fit in with them. Not that I had to be white, just had to be fake. Once I realized how fake the people around me were, I began to distance myself from them. Now I no longer had any kind of social circle really. In 8th grade I decided to skip out on being in the higher classes so I was in classes with a majority of black people for the first time ever. Through the years I made connections with a few black people here and there, so I didn't feel completely alone. I didn't go out of my way to make any new connections though. In the end it turns out I didn't have to. Freshman year my mom moved us to a new township with a very different demographic.

Pike high school was the most diverse school in Indianapolis. White people were actually in the minority, and pike had students from around the world. This was very different from my old school, the very culture of the school was almost foreign to me. I didn't want to fit in at first, so I didn't try. I held on to the hope that I would be able to transfer out of that school and go back to the world I knew. That never happened though. While Pike exposed me to more black people, I never felt that I belonged there. These people had history with each other, memories, friendships, connections, and there was a wall up that I couldn't get through. I tried joining the football team, that didn't work. Tried the track team as well, and that didn't work. The one group where I found some success was the NJROTC program. That's where all the misfits found themselves though. That's where I always ended up, with the misfits who were open to anyone, white or black. They were a safe bet and I needed something safe. Like I said, freshman year, I tried to fit in with different types of groups but it never worked out. Yet again I found myself feeling like I was alone. The only friendships I made were pretty shallow, I know this is true now because even those I was closest to I've lost contact with. My high school experience only confirmed the fact that I wouldn't be accepted by black people.

When I think about it now, I realize that I was never treated like I was black by any group of people growing up. My family treated me and labelled me the "white-boy" and white people were socialized to treat me (or black people in general) like I wasn't black either. I never felt black, nor did I "act black" apparently. Going into college I felt like I'd be around more people like me. Black people who were the exception rather than the rule. Maybe they are here. I wouldn't know though as I've spent the majority of my time in my safe zone. I feel partially agoraphobic when it comes to black people. Because of the exclusion I've felt before I just figure I still won't be accepted now. I feel like I've already been labelled as the guy who only hangs with white people. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's my rep around here. Lately I've found myself wanting to be around black people here. It's intimidating though. They're a close knit group and everyone seems to know everyone else. I would feel like a sheep in wolf's clothing trying to fit in with them. Yes, a sheep in wolf's clothing, because a wolf in sheep's clothing implies ill intent to me, but a sheep in wolf's clothing implies someone who has something to loose. Anyway, I feel like they're an exclusive club, and even though I may have the card that gets me into the club, once I'm in, I won't feel like I belong. Consequently, some of my best memories at BSU have been with the very people I fear won't accept me. I was thinking about this the other night, and I realized I haven't given the people here a chance to accept or reject me. In essence, I rejected them first.

I want to change the look and shape of my social circle now. I want to change my perception of my people. I'm going to do what I can to slowly reform my social network. Hopefully, this isn't something I end up regretting. I doubt it will be. I'm a little nervous, but also a little excited.  Maybe the feelings of loneliness and exclusion from my people will cease to exist after a while. That's a lot of pressure and a high expectation, but the pressure and the expectations are on me, not them.