Why Are You Obsessed with My Race? Chapter 5

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FIVE

I

've always been called names for as long as I could remember because I am biracial, but I never heard of the 'one-drop rule.' Since I was suspended a week before Spring Break, I am going to have a two-week vacation. My mom and Dad went up to the school to get my work for the week I missed. So, I have more than enough time to catch up.

Before asking my dad, I wanted to do my own research on the 'one-drop rule.' Speaking of my dad, my parents weren't happy. My mom said she was so sick and tired of this shit. On the other hand, my dad was happy that I held my ground. My guard is always up because my dad warned me at a young age about how some people would treat me because I am biracial.

My face doesn't look too bad. I have a bruise on my left cheek, but it will fade away. After so many fights all my life—I thank God that my dad put me in Tae Kwon Do, boxing, and jujitsu classes.

As I think about all of the names I've been called, I have never been called a cow before. I guess if something is black and white, they used those terms to try to define a mixed person. I am used to some of the black girls saying I want to be black to prove a point and most of the white girls saying I used my white side when I need something. I never understood why they would make those senseless comments. I mean, really, how can I prove that I am black? I don't have to prove a point because I am black. How do I use my whiteness when I need something? I work for it, and, seeing how I am treated, there isn't anything given to me. I have to fight for my life because I have a black Dad and a white Mom. I am judged everywhere I go because people are too busy looking at my color. Their eyes scan me up and down as they try to figure out what I am mixed with. So again, what sense does any of this make? What do those comments even mean? I never had to use my race to prove a point or get whatever I needed. Peoples' minds are so fucked up by society to the point they are beginning to hate themselves. I am half black, and I am half white, and I will not apologize for my race.

I Googled the 'One-Drop Rule. Basically, it says if you have one drop of black blood, then you are considered black. Again, I am not understanding none of this shit. I feel like if you have one drop of anything—then you are a part of that race. Why can't it be if I have one drop of white in me that I am white? Why is black so defined? Is it a problem being black? Why are so many people color blind? I sit back on my couch, look out the window and say to myself out loud, it is sad that some black girls hate me because I am lighter than them. Whether they want to believe it or not, they are intimidated by my skin complexion. I do not think I am better than them because of the tone of my skin. As I think about it—to keep it real, some black women feel this way because some black men prefer light-skinned girls with 'good hair.' Therefore, the dark-skinned girl feels like light-skinned women are taking their 'men.' That is what Brooklyn was saying a couple of weeks ago.

Speaking of 'good hair,' what is good hair? I never understood that term either. All of our hair becomes tangled and unmanageable. I cannot do a lot of things with my hair that someone who isn't mixed race can do to their hair. I wish I had the kind of hair that I could put in any style I admire, but that isn't possible. When I braid my hair, it comes apart. I do not have any other options, and I am left with a messy bun.

Then there are some white girls who tell me to stay in my place when it comes to their men. I am like, what the fuck they mean, stay in my place? I am not the one to put in a 'category.' They think their white boyfriends want to talk to me because I am light enough and not too dark for their taste. I hate that I have to go through this all the damn time. If more people are comfortable in their skin and think for themselves, then I do not believe manipulation and hate would be so dominant in the world today.

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