Today i have a headache, and it was probably caused by the fact that my son was up all night due to his newfound teeth, making there presence be known.
I decided it was better to stare at a computer screen and allow my over worked mind to spew words of thought than to dwell on the fact that i probably should take some tylenol.
I got thinking about the colour issue. The cliche of it all.
How when i am first introduced to someone as "His wife" they all seem to need some time to swallow the fact that "Yes, i am white."
I find that whenever i am meeting someone ,who for the first time are also meeting me, i suddenly feel inadequate, out of place, different.
It has been hard for me to fit in with groups of females who are the same colour as my husband. As there eyes let me know they are wondering why they should give me the time of day.
This is understandable, being that we still live in a very racist country.
But i have never nor will i ever judge someone by the colour of there skin and allow that to impact the kind of relationship we will have.
Maybe it was because i was raised better than that, to not look at colour, but too look at the person inside.
As early as i can remember i was drawn to black people, maybe this is because i was partly raised by my Nigerian pom godfather, and had a harmless crush on his son.
Or the fact that all my boyfriends but one have been black and i have always related more to African American fiction, television and movies.
So if i am an non judgemental, then why am i constantly judged?
People see me as a stereotypical case of "A white woman meddling in a black woman's territory" But stereotypes are just that. Ways for society to feel comfortable with things that are looked on as taboo.
The cliche of it all amuses me, that so much racism has been bought forth it has now been thrown back to the ones who have long since been giving it.
Either way, there is still an inkling anxiety bubbling around inside me whenever i meet someone, mainly being females of the other race. My mind is always a prisoner to the wonders of what i like to call "The colour cliche"
Will the colour of my skin ultimately impact how accepting of me they are?
I find i have to work harder to be accepted than i ever have before.
Just to prove to them that i am not the judgemental, stereotypical "White woman" they think i am.
I almost feel as if i am contradicting myself by focusing on one's colour now, but as any other person in an interaccial relationship will tell you, this sad realisation of feeling like an outsider to your other halves race is still hovering over us, even when we are long since past looking at the colour of the others skin.
I will forever stay true to the person i am, how i was raised and what beliefs i stand strongly bound with.
Just because i find it a challenge to be accepted by another won't deter me from feeling comfort in my own skin, a skin that is that of a european, The skin of a white woman, if you must.
And if by being white allows others to erase me off their imaginary list of friends, then so be it.
The only true person anyone wants to befriend anyway is someone who will accept you for who you are, and not by the colour of the skin that coccoons you is.
*I am not referring to everyone i have met from a different race, only those who have judged me on the colour of my skin.
I decided it was better to stare at a computer screen and allow my over worked mind to spew words of thought than to dwell on the fact that i probably should take some tylenol.
I got thinking about the colour issue. The cliche of it all.
How when i am first introduced to someone as "His wife" they all seem to need some time to swallow the fact that "Yes, i am white."
I find that whenever i am meeting someone ,who for the first time are also meeting me, i suddenly feel inadequate, out of place, different.
It has been hard for me to fit in with groups of females who are the same colour as my husband. As there eyes let me know they are wondering why they should give me the time of day.
This is understandable, being that we still live in a very racist country.
But i have never nor will i ever judge someone by the colour of there skin and allow that to impact the kind of relationship we will have.
Maybe it was because i was raised better than that, to not look at colour, but too look at the person inside.
As early as i can remember i was drawn to black people, maybe this is because i was partly raised by my Nigerian pom godfather, and had a harmless crush on his son.
Or the fact that all my boyfriends but one have been black and i have always related more to African American fiction, television and movies.
So if i am an non judgemental, then why am i constantly judged?
People see me as a stereotypical case of "A white woman meddling in a black woman's territory" But stereotypes are just that. Ways for society to feel comfortable with things that are looked on as taboo.
The cliche of it all amuses me, that so much racism has been bought forth it has now been thrown back to the ones who have long since been giving it.
Either way, there is still an inkling anxiety bubbling around inside me whenever i meet someone, mainly being females of the other race. My mind is always a prisoner to the wonders of what i like to call "The colour cliche"
Will the colour of my skin ultimately impact how accepting of me they are?
I find i have to work harder to be accepted than i ever have before.
Just to prove to them that i am not the judgemental, stereotypical "White woman" they think i am.
I almost feel as if i am contradicting myself by focusing on one's colour now, but as any other person in an interaccial relationship will tell you, this sad realisation of feeling like an outsider to your other halves race is still hovering over us, even when we are long since past looking at the colour of the others skin.
I will forever stay true to the person i am, how i was raised and what beliefs i stand strongly bound with.
Just because i find it a challenge to be accepted by another won't deter me from feeling comfort in my own skin, a skin that is that of a european, The skin of a white woman, if you must.
And if by being white allows others to erase me off their imaginary list of friends, then so be it.
The only true person anyone wants to befriend anyway is someone who will accept you for who you are, and not by the colour of the skin that coccoons you is.
*I am not referring to everyone i have met from a different race, only those who have judged me on the colour of my skin.
1 comment:
Just had to catch up with your last four entries! Loved them all. I'm glad you're writing a book, hopefully one day I will sit down and put everthing in my cluttered head down on to paper for others to read. :) Keep writing, I love your entries.
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