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Hey Dominicans! You too are black.

My_FB_PicCristina Reyes,
Houston, TX.

I chose the six words I wish I could go around the streets of Santo Domingo yelling. I have never understood, in all my years, why the Dominican culture steadily continues to deny their “blackness.” Their children aren’t taught to consider themselves “negro” instead they are to consider themselves “indio.” The darker the skin the uglier person, the straighter the hair the prettier the girl.
I love my Dominican Heritage and I am proud to be American, but what I am most proud of is that I descended from strong and beautiful Africans that despite being subjected to the most inhumane and atrocious acts in history, their legacy can be kept alive in my face and dark skin.

Hi, I’m Black and I’m PROUD!

Elecia Terrell,
Arlington, TX

I’m very proud of my blackness. To many, we’re too loud, always angry, ghetto, love chicken and watermelon, always on government assistance, have too many kids and don’t know who their fathers are, always late, don’t want to work, don’t know how to keep a job, have nappy hair and we always wear weave, always in drama, stay in the hood..the list goes on with these stereotypes, but I’m here to say that you could associate these characteristics with any person of any ethnicity on this earth. For some reason black people have all these stigmas and stereotypes attached to us and it’s not always true. For me, I can relate to all the above characteristics in some way, shape or form, but that does not define me. What defines me is my genuine interests, my ancestral bloodline, my family, my choices. I am only a part of the above listed characteristics and I love every single one about me. I love my thick kinky hair, I love my loud over the top personality, I am late to a lot of things, I enjoy hearing about drama, I get angry at times, and I loveeee me some chicken and watermelon. I am not a walking stereotype, I’m a wonderfully imperfect, flawed yet strong unapologetic BLACK WOMAN.

Black 365 days of the year.

Marquez Jones,
Houston, TX

I chose “Black 365 Days of the Year” because in my heart and in the manner that I live my life, I live unapologetically as myself. The identity that I most identify with is my race and although I know that I experience prejudice, racism, and biases, I am proud of my race and my ancestry. I am fully aware that as a black male, it is not statistically expected for me to succeed or even be here in graduate school right now. Therefore, I live my life as a challenge to myself, as a way to prove doubters and statistics wrong, and as a way to show younger individuals who are also black that it is possible to be a successful black male in society. In addition, as I mentioned I am unapologetically black which means that I have no pressure to conform to what others think I should be or to lessen my “blackness” in order to appease others. One example of this is code switching in a professional setting. Therefore, I am proud that I live my life being “black 365 days of the year.”

Black physician, highly educated, still enslaved

Michael P. Maddox,
Indianapolis, IN

I have taken and passed every test required, kept up to date professionally, showed up when expected, worked in tandem with others yet I am grossly underpaid with limited options due to non-compete clauses and threats of litigation if violated. I can think of no other reason for my situation than my Blackness.

“Blackness is not a cohesive experience! “

Mya Wilson,
GA

See my skin, it’s not to be breezed over like the elephant in the room! It tells part of my story; not all of it. I am a walking dichotomy like most people. I am soft and strong. I am reserved and loud. I speak the King’s English and I speak Ebonics. I am a human who won’t be boxed in or dismissed because the unfamiliarity of my culture is threatening.

The Uncertainty My Blackness Brings Me

Ashlei,
Knoxville, TN

Being a black woman sometimes feels like I will always have unjust obstacles in my life. I will learn to deal with them and not let them anger me the way they probably should. But I wonder if I will ever truly feel like I belong in a space. At the age of 19, I began to worry about how I will one day be treated when I give birth in a hospital. I wonder if my complaints of pain will be ignored because of the color of my skin. I hate that I now fear something as beautiful as childbirth, because of the un-proportionally high maternal mortality rates of black women in this country. I often catch myself not wanting to speak up about things that bother me because I don’t want to be perceived as “the angry black girl.” How many off-hand comments have I let slide because I was afraid of the way my disdain would be perceived? I wonder when I will ever feel like I truly belong in a space.

University of Tennessee, Knoxville Sociology 110

I’m Black before I’m anything else.

Jan Miles,
New Orleans, LA.

I’m not a woman–I’m a BLACK woman. I’m not a writer–I’m a BLACK writer. In law school, I was a BLACK law student. If I kill my brother, it’s BLACK-on-black crime. Just as white privilege is societally applied (rather than being internally rooted), blackness is also applied by society. I don’t get to just be me, the way white people exist–as the norm, as the default–I’m BLACK me.

You’re mixed with that hair, right?

KYogaKhairah L. Walker,
Montclair Heights, NJ.

My hair is not my heritage. It’s been an issue my entire life, people define me because of it. People hate me for having it, curse me when cutting it. It is not ME. Yes it is my crown but I am my temple. I revel in my blackness, not just the facets of it.

Teacher of black youth, ancestors slaverholders

image1 (1)Ernie Lee
Savannah, GA

Struggling with my whiteness and my student’s blackness until we connect. I am a good teacher and after a while I don’t color just students who want to learn. It is more of a socio-economic divide, but I will never know what it means to be black as my students will never know what it is to be white… But we still respect and connect. To ignore we are different is disrespectful, be to acknowledge and both grow.

Prayed God would make me White

Amber Price,
Atlanta, GA.

I was raised in Chattanooga, Tennessee. I grew up ashamed of my Blackness. I heard the n-word for the first time in elementary school. I prayed every night for God to make me white. At the age of 17 I was told to go sit with the rest of the Blacks by the people I grew up with. The Blacks had only arrived in my school system after rezoning enable more minorities to attend. I only embraced my color in college. The only time I feel really American is when I am abroad. I hoped that my children would grow up in a better world. They won’t.

Black with dreads and white husband

FB_IMG_1455484402843Tiffany Yizar,
Norwalk, CT.

My blackness and black cultural authenticity is never questioned, until people discover I have a white husband. As if his race diminishes mine and the life experience I’ve had in the years prior to meeting him. In fact, I’d argue being a black woman married to a white man, a union not fully supported by either race as normal/acceptable has made me even more secure in my blackness.

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