CALL US NEPALESE NOT THE INDIANS
Jubin Timilsina,
Jonesboro, AR
We are Nepalese and we have our own identity. Stop calling us Indians
I’m not white, but I’m white.
Kelsee Jensen,
Jonesboro, AR
I am from Alaska and have a lot of Alaskan native family members. Growing up, I did not think of myself as white. My family members told me that I was Athabaskan or Alaskan Native, but not white. When I moved to Missouri at the age of 8 I was told that I was, in fact, white. Either way, it makes no difference.
The Past Doesn’t Determine Our Future
Zoe White,
Jonesboro, AR
I am an Arkansas State University and this is my first year at the university. In my past experiences, I’ve decided it’s best if I don’t let my past determine my future. Sometimes we let our past hold us back from reaching our hopes and dreams.
Affirmative Action is separate and unequal
Brandon W Hogan,
Jonesboro, AR
I am a 35-year-old black man living in what is supposedly a very racist, bigoted Southern United States state or Arkansas. Other than a handful of incidents in high school of people just trying to anger me, I have never been the victim of any kind of “racial incident” or had any confrontation that was, as far as I know, based on race other than having a few young black men tell me I am not black enough because I tell them not to call me, “nigga.” It’s worth saying that I have never once had to say anything similar to anyone of another fact-it has never happened in my adult life.
I strongly believe that Affirmative Action policies are not only inherently unfair and unethical but serve to actually lessen the accomplishments of any non-white person, whether that person benefited from such policies or not. I am a U.S. Army Medical Corps Veteran and have a Bachelor’s Degree in Nursing and a Master’s Degree in History. I should not have to explain that I have achieved what I have(relatively meager as it may be) without handouts or hand-ups and that I actively refuse and denounce such programs as insulting and ultimately damaging to everyone.
Race is a weaponized social construct
Loretta McGregor,
Jonesboro, AR
I’m a psychology professor. I teach students that race is a social construct created by men. This social construct is often used to sort, oppress and control others who are seen as less (e.g., intelligent, human, desirable, etc.) or those who threaten the status quo.
Side note: I routinely listened to Ms. Norris on Morning Edition. One morning, as I drove my then three-year-old to daycare, he suddenly asked, “Mom, who’s your favorite NPR correspondent.” (No lie, those were his exact words. He was very precocious). I was startled by the unexpected question and simple mumbled, “ Hum, I’m not sure.” I then asked him, who’s your favorite correspondent?” Without hesitation, he replied Michele Norris. I asked why and he said “I like her voice. She sounds nice.” That was 21 years ago. He’s still a huge NPR fan and has now introduced his son to NPR. This story along, with the one about him humming the theme song to Morning Edition while riding in his car seat, has become a legend in our house. 😊
Stop explaining why black lives matter
Tonisha C.,
Jonesboro, GA.
All lives didn’t matter until black lives mattered. This response is no mistake. It is intended to be dismissive of the perils faced by people of color. It is humiliating and degrading to have to explain why black lives matter. It is a waste of time to explain, time and time again, that there is an implicit “too” at the end of Black Lives Matter. There is no need for the colorful language, reducing the plight of people of color to plates of food in a restaurant. It is not rocket science.
Humanity should be more relevant than race
Matt Henegar,
Jonesboro, AR.
I think the we should quit focusing on minor labels, like black, hispanic, asian, and all of the other skin tone variations, and focus on making the world better for all of us.
Don’t drink out of THAT fountain!
Alice Lynch
Jonesboro, AK
This is what my father said when I ran up to the water fountain with no line in the big downtown Houston department store. I was small enough not to see the sign above it that read “Colored”, but old enough to read it when he grabbed my arm harshly and pointed up to it. “But, Daddy, it’s clear like this water!” I guess that point was lost on him. It was never lost on me. I didn’t understand separate but equal things, and this turned out to be one of many I’d witness as a child.
