The Race Card Project
By Michele Norris
Raheem Cash,
Alexandria, VA.
As a kid I spent a lot of time being one of two or three black kids in honors classes. Spent a lot of time being only black kid that played tennis. Spent a lot of time not being considered “black enough”. Well I’m not a kid anymore and fortunately I managed thrive in a multi-cultural, multi-ethnic world.
Lauren Juanita Hines,
Alexandria, VA.
I am the American melting pot personified: born to a Mexican father and Caucasian (white, mostly Irish) mother, raised by a Lebanese mother and a German-Irish father. I remember weddings as a child where we all danced the Middle Easter dabke. Cousins on the other side of the family won awards for Irish dancing. Now my Mexican family blows up my phone with renditions of Mañanitas on my birthday. It’s a huge family: Catholic on all sides.
Edna Jan Jacobs,
Alexandria, VA
There are only 14 million Jewish people in the whole world. Is it a religion? Is it ethnicity? I am ethnically 91% Ashkenazi Jewish but because my skin lacks the pigmentation of my ancestors, I am categorized as white and I dislike it.
Tina Myrum,
Alexandria, MN.
Growing up in a small town, there was not a lot of racially diversity. However, I listened to the news, read papers, and learned as much as I could about other races. I learned that we were not that different. Most people looking at me would assume that I have had an easy life, but this is not the case. I grew up with my grandparents, rather than my parents, most of my life. I have had a full-time job most of my life since I was sixteen. I bought everything I have and there have been days where I was not sure where I was going to sleep or what I was going to eat. These options were not by choice, but rather by being so privileged to not have everything given to me, as most people often think. I get immensely frustrated when people tell me that I have had it so easy, I should not complain. I do not learn as most do, and struggled all through elementary school to pass my classes, because I was “illiterate”. Even after my mom and step dad taught me how to read, the stigma continued. After transferring to a different school, I excelled in all my classes and started to enjoy school. After school, I went to a technical college and continued to have to work two to three jobs at a time. I slept in my car some days to get an extra half an hour of sleep and ate at work, to save money. I know that I am more privileged than some people, but I wish that people would not look at my car or my going to a university and think that it was all due to my parents. My parents taught me to be independent, that is my privilege.
Ceira Stewart,
Alexandria, VA
There have been so many issues about those who have a darker skin complexion as if there’s a disease. Nobody should be looked upon and there shouldn’t be any stereotypes put with a person all because of how they look.
Suzanne Jordan,
Alexandria, VA
Debra Cope,
Alexandria, VA.
Adoption is beautiful, and I really don’t mind helping others navigate the awkward preconceptions that accompany it. But this phrase just burns me because it equates my spunky, lively child with an object . She’s not my toy — she’s my daughter!
Mike Elliott
Alexandria, VA
My mother was brown. Her skin a shade so perfect until the day she died she was “Puddin” to her family and friends. My father a lighter shade of brown was “high yellow” and proud to be colored. He had a fraternal twin who was dark like an egg plant, blue-black.
My skin is dark brown , the color of a snickers bar. I gets shades darker like my uncles when exposed to the sunlight.
As a child, I would love stay outdoors for hours playing in the sun with my friends. Recently, I started having memories of my mother putting me in the bathtub to scub my skin with COMET or AJAX.
I love my mother and always will, but it is only now that I come to understand and realize that although she loved me she hated my dark skin. As my mother, she was doing what she thought best to lighten my skin, to protect me from a world that hated boys who were dark brown like me. Today I wonder would Trevon and other brown boys la cousin of mine who was gunned down by the police during a random traffic stop would still be here if they were white and not t brown like me.
Patty Hall,
Alexandria, VA.
I have a precious bi-racial blessing; My Grandson. He doesn’t see color either, but sadly he knows other people do. There’s a song that many of us sang in Church growing up. “Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world. Red and Yellow, Black and White they are precious in his sight” .
Susan Cooper
Alexandria, VA
I’m not black, but I really wish that more Americans would show some respect for our first black President.
Isabel “Scottie” Dalsimer
Alexandria, VA
It was a bright and sunny day in August 1963. I was 25 years old and just back from a two year assignment in West Africa. My household effects were arriving at my Washington apartment that afternoon, but I had time to go to the March on Washington beforehand. I made it downtown into the crowd and ran into an old acquaintance. His name was Bill Pope. Bill was a 6’4” African American man. I am 5’1” white woman. Bill asked me if I wanted to march with him and I said “Sure.”. We marched and it was wonderful. People were friendly and were all singing and happy together as we went along. Then we saw a TV camera suspended in the air just above us in the crowd. Bill looked up at the camera and stopped. He picked me up and said to the camera: “Hi all you folk in Mississippi & Alabama. This is how we all get along in Washington, D.C.!”, and he planted a big kiss on my face. We both looked in the camera and laughed. He put me down and we marched on. I couldn’t stay for the speeches because I had to meet my movers at my apartment. I haven’t seen Bill Pope since, but I heard he later became the Coca-Cola company representative in Nigeria. Washington, DC was so segregated at that time, so everyone getting along together so well and in an unsegregated way made the experience so wonderful – proof of how the races could truly get along. My memories of that time have been floating back in my mind lately and so I’m happy to share my experience at the March on Washington in 1963.
David Zetoony
Alexandria, VA
When race is considered in a contest — whether its use is lawful or unlawful, ethical or unethical, motivated to equalize or motivated to discriminate, implicit or explicit, intentional or unintentional — it means that you never know the degree to which you won or lost based upon your merit. If you didn’t get selected was it because of racial discrimination not in your favor? Because another candidate received affirmative action in their favor? or because you were not the best qualified? If you did get selected was it because of latent discrimination in your favor? Latent discrimination against other canddiates? Affirmative action in your favor? or because you were the strongest?
HELEN CANNON LOUNSBURY
Alexandria, VA
I WEEP FOR THE HARD FOUGHT PATH WE ALL HAVE BEEN ON AND STILL ARE ON FOR RACIAL AND HUMAN RIGHTS JUSTICE. WHEN WILL WE EVER LIVE ON THIS PLANET AS HUMANS, RESPECTING EACH OTHER AS LOVING BROTHERS AND SISTERS? SO MUCH T0 DO. HOPE PERSISTS; I’M GLAD FOR THE ABILITY TO WORK FOR CHANGE ONE DAY AT A TIME.
Brian Lounsbury
Alexandria, VA
The Civil Rights movement was powerful, and such a struggle to overcome the injustices of one group toward another in a fight for justice. The music that brings all together and honors the civil rights all deserve!
Isabel “Scottie” Dalsimer
Alexandria, VA
It was a bright and sunny day in August 1963. I was 25 years old and just back from a two year assignment in West Africa. My household effects were arriving at my Washington apartment that afternoon, but I had time to go to the March on Washington beforehand. I made it downtown into the crowd and ran into an old acquaintance. His name was Bill Pope. Bill was a 6’4” African American man. I am 5’1” white woman. Bill asked me if I wanted to march with him and I said “Sure.”. We marched and it was wonderful. People were friendly and were all singing and happy together as we went along. Then we saw a TV camera suspended in the air just above us in the crowd. Bill looked up at the camera and stopped. He picked me up and said to the camera: “Hi all you folk in Mississippi & Alabama. This is how we all get along in Washington, D.C.!”, and he planted a big kiss on my face. We both looked in the camera and laughed. He put me down and we marched on. I couldn’t stay for the speeches because I had to meet my movers at my apartment. I haven’t seen Bill Pope since, but I heard he later became the Coca-Cola company representative in Nigeria. Washington, DC was so segregated at that time, so everyone getting along together so well and in an unsegregated way made the experience so wonderful – proof of how the races could truly get along. My memories of that time have been floating back in my mind lately and so I’m happy to share my experience at the March on Washington in 1963.
Michael Skinner
Alexandria, VA
Does an altercation between two persons of different races automatically equal racism by one or both of the participants?
Beniyam Matewos
Alexandria, VA
I stand up for myself and my beliefs. I stand up for those i love! I speak my mind, think my own thoughts, and do things my way. I won’t compromise what in my heart. I live my life MY way. I won’t allow anyone to step on me. I refuse to tolerate injustice. I have the courage and strength to allow myself to be me. Most of all I don’t care what people think about me!
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