<3, Jay
I liked college better
when I was the only Black girl in the class. I know some of you may find
this statement confusing, but let me explain myself, and then maybe you
might understand.
I don't even know where to begin. As I sit here typing this message, so many thoughts are running through my mind. Living in a society where skin color allows most people to pass judgement on you is hard enough, but sitting in a classroom where you feel it happening over and over is the hardest thing of all. It never really became aware to me that I was Black or African-American until I was in a space where most of my peers looked nothing like me. I went to a predominantly Black elementary & middle school and grew up in a predominantly Black neighborhood, so all I knew was Black (except for the occasional student of Middle Eastern descent), and I didn't have a problem with that. When I attended a high school with a generous mixture of Blacks and Latinos, I felt a little insecure at first, but the number of the minorities seemed to balance out, and overall, we had a lot more in common than we thought. But coming to LaGuardia has made me feel my skin color in every sense of the word. In my first semester I was in a cluster, and our study topic was "Constructing Identity." This forced me to face my ethnicity head on, tackling all aspects of what makes me me- including race, gender, and social status. Sure, there were tension-filled discussions, offensive statements, stereotypes and other epithets, but it was my best semester so far- because I was the only Black (dark-skinned) girl in the class. I mean, I already stood out, because I was different looking, but I was also smarter, sharper, and more focused than a lot of my classmates. I wasn't only the Black girl; I was the smart Black girl. Professors knew my name. I sat in the front in every class. I went to class every day. I handed in my work on time and never got lower than a A-. I was exceptional, the one and only. I felt my identity had been created.
That was a year ago. This semester, things changed. I walked into my classrooms and found I wasn't the only Black girl, and I wasn't the only smart one. Always looking for a challenge, I continued to do me. I go to class every day, I hand in my assignments on time, I sit in the front of the class, and once again I was exceptional. But soon professors started confusing me with the other Black girl that sat next to me. He gave me her graded tests back. He looked at me and called her name on the roll call. He called on me to answer a question and called me her name. He called on her to present her project and suddenly she was me. Thus, I was stripped of my identity. I noticed it wasn't happening nearly as often with girls of other ethnicities as it happened with us Black girls. Is it not enough for me to sit front of your face every day, hand in A-quality work which you praise me for, and to contribute valuable input to class discussion, all so you can have the decency to learn my name? Are you a person perpetuating the stereotype that all Blacks look alike? Whatever it is, I liked it better when I was the only Black girl in the class. Then, I was somebody; not just another Black face in this minstrel show sometimes called college.
I don't even know where to begin. As I sit here typing this message, so many thoughts are running through my mind. Living in a society where skin color allows most people to pass judgement on you is hard enough, but sitting in a classroom where you feel it happening over and over is the hardest thing of all. It never really became aware to me that I was Black or African-American until I was in a space where most of my peers looked nothing like me. I went to a predominantly Black elementary & middle school and grew up in a predominantly Black neighborhood, so all I knew was Black (except for the occasional student of Middle Eastern descent), and I didn't have a problem with that. When I attended a high school with a generous mixture of Blacks and Latinos, I felt a little insecure at first, but the number of the minorities seemed to balance out, and overall, we had a lot more in common than we thought. But coming to LaGuardia has made me feel my skin color in every sense of the word. In my first semester I was in a cluster, and our study topic was "Constructing Identity." This forced me to face my ethnicity head on, tackling all aspects of what makes me me- including race, gender, and social status. Sure, there were tension-filled discussions, offensive statements, stereotypes and other epithets, but it was my best semester so far- because I was the only Black (dark-skinned) girl in the class. I mean, I already stood out, because I was different looking, but I was also smarter, sharper, and more focused than a lot of my classmates. I wasn't only the Black girl; I was the smart Black girl. Professors knew my name. I sat in the front in every class. I went to class every day. I handed in my work on time and never got lower than a A-. I was exceptional, the one and only. I felt my identity had been created.
That was a year ago. This semester, things changed. I walked into my classrooms and found I wasn't the only Black girl, and I wasn't the only smart one. Always looking for a challenge, I continued to do me. I go to class every day, I hand in my assignments on time, I sit in the front of the class, and once again I was exceptional. But soon professors started confusing me with the other Black girl that sat next to me. He gave me her graded tests back. He looked at me and called her name on the roll call. He called on me to answer a question and called me her name. He called on her to present her project and suddenly she was me. Thus, I was stripped of my identity. I noticed it wasn't happening nearly as often with girls of other ethnicities as it happened with us Black girls. Is it not enough for me to sit front of your face every day, hand in A-quality work which you praise me for, and to contribute valuable input to class discussion, all so you can have the decency to learn my name? Are you a person perpetuating the stereotype that all Blacks look alike? Whatever it is, I liked it better when I was the only Black girl in the class. Then, I was somebody; not just another Black face in this minstrel show sometimes called college.
