This is something i wrote for english, but i'll put it here cuz... why not?
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It can be said of many people, even in this era of political correctness, that prejudices abound. For whatever reason, whether it be race, age, sexual orientation, or any number of other classifications they choose to impose, people still feel uneasy around certain others. They'd never claim to be racist, or "age-ist," or biased one way or the other, but their actions betray them, 90% of the time. Sadly I am such a person. But, being African-American, ironically I'm prejudiced against my own. This prejudice manifests in a form of proud standoffishness, due to the assumption that I have nothing in common with most black people anyway.
Like every child brought into this world, I had no positive or negative thought toward any race, color or creed during my early childhood. Everyone was truly equal, and my feelings toward a person were strictly based on how I was treated. As time went on, however, it that I was getting along less and less with people of my own race, and getting along more and more with members of every other race. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I was just hanging out with my friends: we had common interests, we watched the same cartoons on TV, we liked playing the same games. I'm not even sure when it was that I noticed that I had no black friends, but as time went on, I began to notice how little I got along with my family. At family gatherings, I couldn't stand the accents and speech patterns, the topics of conversation (it was never what I wanted to talk about), and especially the volume. It seemed like someone was always yelling at someone else, which was almost never the case at my friends' houses. As a consequence, I withdrew, opting to go draw or read a comic book in some remote room, far away from the noise until such time as said noise would be significantly diminished. At Thanksgiving, for example, I would usually only be seen again when dinner was served.
In my teen years, I withdrew from my own race even more. My parents tried to get me involved in an all black youth group called "Jack and Jill of America," though to this day I have no clue what those famous nursery rhyme characters have to do with being black. At group meetings, I ran into many stereotypical black teenagers: they were all into rap, and the then emerging "gangsta" lifestyle. I was also into rap, but preferred the comedic and danceable kind, so there was already a rift generated because I was never "street" enough for anyone. That, coupled with my love for art and animation, not to mention my lack of Ebonic usage, made me an outcast in that group. Later, at my high school, I was constantly being called an Oreo (black on the outside, white on the inside) because, despite the fact that I played basketball, I didn't get along well with the one other black member of the team, Shawn. We shared no interest other than the sport, but due to an injury I was losing my passion for it, and was developing an interest in martial arts instead. Of course I still spoke well and got along with all the white kids much better. On top of that, I opted not to date any of the very few black girls at school (I didn't get along with the one of then that I found attractive), and so when I began going steady with my first (Scottish) girlfriend, I was deemed a "sellout." It only got worse as time went on. Shawn took it upon himself to rally the rest of the team against me, making them into his ghetto-wannabe acolytes, and making fun of me and my friends. Also, while my parents were perfectly welcoming toward my girlfriend, the rest of my family just couldn't understand why I "couldn't just find a nice black girl." All of the negativity toward the things and people I held dear left a very poor taste in my mouth, and I decided that if everyone was going to treat me as an oddity and an outcast, there was no point in trying to please them with the lifestyle that I'd chosen. After my graduation from high school, I took my passions and left.
The ten years since then have been an interesting ride, indeed. Due to all of the places I've lived and the people I've met as a consequence, I've been able to have a great appreciation for members of all races, but deep down I still feel uneasy around members of my own, and it's not a feeling I treasure, being that it's so negative. Thankfully though, this is changing, and most of that change has been happening right here in Arlington. This area is so varied, and there is such a huge cross-section of people no matter where I go, that I'm forced to deal with my own prejudices head-on. Being at the Art Institute, I've met so many people of my own race who actually share my interests that I actually feel like I belong, and that I won't be ostracized for my speech pattern, or mode of dress, or for the sake of my interests and drives. I can "talk shop" with them about art and animation. I don't know where these other geeks who are black like me have been hiding, but a lot of us seem to have come together here, and it makes things much easier for me. I'm finally starting to feel truly comfortable around "my people," and I'm glad because bitterness like what I had is very difficult to carry for such a long time.
I still enjoy science fiction and fantasy. I still read comic books and watch lots of animation. I still practice martial arts. I still don't use Ebonics. I've actually grown to dislike most rap. But thanks to my recent life experiences I've found that I'm less of an oddity than I thought, and that I don't have to hate African-Americans as a race, simply because of the assumption that I'll be shut out due to what I enjoy. Who knows, maybe in time I might actually (wonder of wonders) date a black woman if a nice one comes along. But don't hold your breath for that just yet.
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It can be said of many people, even in this era of political correctness, that prejudices abound. For whatever reason, whether it be race, age, sexual orientation, or any number of other classifications they choose to impose, people still feel uneasy around certain others. They'd never claim to be racist, or "age-ist," or biased one way or the other, but their actions betray them, 90% of the time. Sadly I am such a person. But, being African-American, ironically I'm prejudiced against my own. This prejudice manifests in a form of proud standoffishness, due to the assumption that I have nothing in common with most black people anyway.
Like every child brought into this world, I had no positive or negative thought toward any race, color or creed during my early childhood. Everyone was truly equal, and my feelings toward a person were strictly based on how I was treated. As time went on, however, it that I was getting along less and less with people of my own race, and getting along more and more with members of every other race. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I was just hanging out with my friends: we had common interests, we watched the same cartoons on TV, we liked playing the same games. I'm not even sure when it was that I noticed that I had no black friends, but as time went on, I began to notice how little I got along with my family. At family gatherings, I couldn't stand the accents and speech patterns, the topics of conversation (it was never what I wanted to talk about), and especially the volume. It seemed like someone was always yelling at someone else, which was almost never the case at my friends' houses. As a consequence, I withdrew, opting to go draw or read a comic book in some remote room, far away from the noise until such time as said noise would be significantly diminished. At Thanksgiving, for example, I would usually only be seen again when dinner was served.
In my teen years, I withdrew from my own race even more. My parents tried to get me involved in an all black youth group called "Jack and Jill of America," though to this day I have no clue what those famous nursery rhyme characters have to do with being black. At group meetings, I ran into many stereotypical black teenagers: they were all into rap, and the then emerging "gangsta" lifestyle. I was also into rap, but preferred the comedic and danceable kind, so there was already a rift generated because I was never "street" enough for anyone. That, coupled with my love for art and animation, not to mention my lack of Ebonic usage, made me an outcast in that group. Later, at my high school, I was constantly being called an Oreo (black on the outside, white on the inside) because, despite the fact that I played basketball, I didn't get along well with the one other black member of the team, Shawn. We shared no interest other than the sport, but due to an injury I was losing my passion for it, and was developing an interest in martial arts instead. Of course I still spoke well and got along with all the white kids much better. On top of that, I opted not to date any of the very few black girls at school (I didn't get along with the one of then that I found attractive), and so when I began going steady with my first (Scottish) girlfriend, I was deemed a "sellout." It only got worse as time went on. Shawn took it upon himself to rally the rest of the team against me, making them into his ghetto-wannabe acolytes, and making fun of me and my friends. Also, while my parents were perfectly welcoming toward my girlfriend, the rest of my family just couldn't understand why I "couldn't just find a nice black girl." All of the negativity toward the things and people I held dear left a very poor taste in my mouth, and I decided that if everyone was going to treat me as an oddity and an outcast, there was no point in trying to please them with the lifestyle that I'd chosen. After my graduation from high school, I took my passions and left.
The ten years since then have been an interesting ride, indeed. Due to all of the places I've lived and the people I've met as a consequence, I've been able to have a great appreciation for members of all races, but deep down I still feel uneasy around members of my own, and it's not a feeling I treasure, being that it's so negative. Thankfully though, this is changing, and most of that change has been happening right here in Arlington. This area is so varied, and there is such a huge cross-section of people no matter where I go, that I'm forced to deal with my own prejudices head-on. Being at the Art Institute, I've met so many people of my own race who actually share my interests that I actually feel like I belong, and that I won't be ostracized for my speech pattern, or mode of dress, or for the sake of my interests and drives. I can "talk shop" with them about art and animation. I don't know where these other geeks who are black like me have been hiding, but a lot of us seem to have come together here, and it makes things much easier for me. I'm finally starting to feel truly comfortable around "my people," and I'm glad because bitterness like what I had is very difficult to carry for such a long time.
I still enjoy science fiction and fantasy. I still read comic books and watch lots of animation. I still practice martial arts. I still don't use Ebonics. I've actually grown to dislike most rap. But thanks to my recent life experiences I've found that I'm less of an oddity than I thought, and that I don't have to hate African-Americans as a race, simply because of the assumption that I'll be shut out due to what I enjoy. Who knows, maybe in time I might actually (wonder of wonders) date a black woman if a nice one comes along. But don't hold your breath for that just yet.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
My family is from South Carolina. They're so deep into the south, that they feel the only reason they lost the Civil War was because they ran out of grits. Racism is abundant there, and people discriminate because they were born into that tension. I grew up in Seattle, and we have so much diversity here - sure there is still racism, you get that anywhere - but there isn't the same kind of tension, like what you're talking about in this part of the country. It's hard when I go home to visit the family because I can't stand the terminology they use when referring to African Americans. It makes me feel uncomfortable, and I can't help but think of some members of my family as Red-necks.
It's good that you're able to move past a lot of that negativity from your past. I'm still working on mine, but my family is so far away from me, it's hard to really have an impact on my relationship with them when I only get to see them once a year.
Anyway, have a great day, stud.