Who will love this black girl?
Gabby Mbeki,
Boston, MA.
In the fall of 1997, I started 6th grade at a day independent school in Connecticut. I grew up in a predominately West Indian neighborhood surrounded by faces like mine, but my father wanted me to have a more rigorous education. I entered the school being one of three students of color in my class and it was a shock for me. It was not as though I never been around white people, but I never been surrounded as much as I had been when I started at this school. I spent seven years at the school. I grew up and became a woman at this school. I also fell in “love” at this school. Because there were no men that looked like me I found love in the white male and since then I have always been attracted to white males. I have been ridiculed for such preference and felt guilt that I am attracted to such and at times feel as though I am offending my black race. However, I also feel as though white men do not take me as seriously either. They date me because they are curious. They want to know if dating a black girl feels different. If making love to her feels the same…and at the end of the day. I always feel prodded and used. I have grown not to trust love and wonder how much of race has to do with it. I sometimes feel trapped and feel as though I will forever to be alone.
Black, Papua New Guinea, curious, adopted
Brittany Barnes
Reno, NV
I am adopted. I was born in Irian Jaya, Indonesia, now known as Western New Guinea. I don’t really tell people where I was born, because I don’t find it necessary in conversations and it never really comes up. People look at me and automatically assume that I am African-American and this is not the case, but I don’t really correct them. I consider myself black just to make it easier for people, but what would you call me if someone were to label me. I have done extensive research and I have found that I am Papuan if I were to label myself, but then our government has those stupid boxes to check what race you are. I now put other Pacific Islander because Indonesia/Papua New Guinea are considered to be Pacific Islands. I am a person of mixed cultures given the circumstances and the environment I was raised in. I don’t talk “black” or act “black” and people always say oh you’re such a white girl, or oh you’re so white washed. It may sound like a joke especially when it comes to friends saying this, but it’s like, why does having a skin color have to limit someone’s ability to talk or act a certain way. I feel that my friends judge me all the time because of the way I sound or act and it’s tiring. I want to tell people where I come from, but I hate explaining my life story. So for whoever is reading this, tell me…what do you think? Are people who are born in Papua New Guinea considered black? Pacific Islander? Is there anyone else out there that was born in Papua New Guinea? I need someone to talk to about this. Even just to hear opinions about this. Thanks.
White, but can’t have Mexican family?
Jade Weber,
Holland, MI.
When my grandparents come up to visit, and we go out people always ask if my grandfather is related to us. My whole family is white, but my grandfather is Mexican. My grandmother married him so, he is part of my family. Sometimes when people ask we can tell they are just curious but other time they are disgusted.
#hollandnewtech
If you’re white, don’t ask questions
Brenna McCurry,
Orange, CA.
I feel like because I am white people get mad at me for asking questions or saying anything about race/ethnicity. I feel like I can’t be curious and try to understand them because of the color of my skin.
Curious about differences and common ground
Holly Simons
Eugene, OR
Since I was very young, I’ve been curious about people’s experiences, lives, ideas, and hopes. It’s what inspires me to travel, read, and continue to learn throughout my life. I’m drawn to find common ground with people who are dramatically different from me. And this old truth guides me: the more I learn, the less I know.
We are all curious. So what?
Keith Gatling
Syracuse, NY
I’m black and from New Jersey. At least one of those makes me nosy. Or is “curious” the better word to use?
I want to know everything about you. I want to know where you’re from whether that be across town, across the state, across the country, or the other side of the planet. I want to know whether you’re German or Austrian, French or French-Canadian, Indian or Pakistani, Japanese or Chinese, Norweigian or Danish, from Missouri or from Arkansas. And I want to know because I know that sometimes the people in group A get offended when you think they’re from group B, and I want to get it right. I also want to know because I’m just plain curious about people.
You’re from Malta and not Italy? Tell me about Malta, I don’t know anything about it. You’re from Bisaquino? So’s my brother-in-law. Tell me more.
I hate that in the spirit of “political correctness,” we’re not allowed to ask the kinds of questions that start conversations, and help us to get to know people better.
We’re all curious. So what!
