Can’t see beyond my white privilege
Jessica,
CA.
I am a white female living in California with my white family. I grew up in an area where I was one of a few white girls in my school. I made friends of all different races and came to understand the benefits of diversity, however, it wasn’t always a pleasant experience. I was bullied by girls who were both Mexican and black. They called me names like, “stupid white girl,” and made fun of my freckles and pale skin. Many girls would laugh and say things about me in Spanish because they knew I couldn’t understand. I would come home crying to my mom because I was not a fighter and would never have done anything to fight back. My mom would tell me to ignore them, but it only made it worse. A group of black girls even threatened to jump me after school and I would hide in the bathrooms. These experiences made middle school and some of high school pretty miserable, but yet because I am white I am always treated like a racist. If I am racist then why is it that I was bullied so badly by other races when I never bullied anyone because of their race? If I speak on the matter, I am ignorant and people say that only white people can be racist, not other races. In other words, I am privileged so I can’t speak out about how people treated me. I find that to be really sad. It shouldn’t matter what color you are: racism is racism. If you dislike someone simply because of their skin color, you should be called a racist. But if I point this out, I am simply someone who can’t see beyond my white privilege.
Yes, that is my real name.
Hyosim Nancy Collins,
Beaverton, OR.
My middle name is Nancy. I was born in South Korea and arrived in the United States when I was 4 years old with my Korean family. Soon after we arrived in California, my father decided we should all have “American” names. When I became a Naturalized Citizen at the age of 18, I kept my “Korean” first name and made my adopted “American” middle name official during the naturalization process. People invariably ask if Nancy is my real name when I introduce myself or am introduced. I had and continue to notice that my friends who are of different “races” have not been/are asked the same question…
Nazi past, American present, Christian regardless
Jessica Eaton,
Minot, ND.
My maiden name is “Hess” and carries a lot of weight for being a “Nazi name”. Growing up, other students in school would call me a “Nazi” because of my last name and distant relation to a couple of people who took part in the Nazi regime. I didn’t like it, and often times, these words came from other “white” kids. I thought it would have hurt less if it came from someone else who wasn’t “like me”, someone who wasn’t white. During my junior year of high school, I realized that this thinking was wrong. It was not okay for anyone of any race to hurt another person. We are all people regardless of skin color or ethnic identity or family background. As for myself, my family from great grandparents and later have always lived in America. I identify myself as an American, and when asked to specify, a German-American. But, most importantly, I identify myself as one who has been redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ. Regardless of how I identify myself or what people call me, I am a Christian and Christ’s love and gospel transcends all racial identifiers. We are all one in Christ.
What’s it like being a “wetback”
Mary Rodriguez,
Carmichael, CA.
True question asked of me by my very first crush. I remember this time vividly. I was in science class and across from me was the “love of my life”..it was 6th grade. I was really excited to work with him, and when he looked at his friend then back at me he asked ” Hey, whats it like being a wetback?”. I was stunned and though at first his friend and he had a chuckle, he quickly realized that it was a mistake since the look on my face, and the tears that streamed down were many and as much as I tried to stop them from coming down they didn’t. I had no clue that it was assumed that I was one, I was born in the United States, and by my name Mary..who would have thought of it, I became embarrassed, and when the bell rang I ran to a friend who was puzzled as to why that would be asked. From that moment on, I felt that everyone thought that of me. I never told anyone, but it was my first experience with feeling different and not belonging to any particular culture. Would everyone think this of me? What would happen if the wrong person assumed I was? Would I be hurt? Taken to Mexico where I knew no one or nothing about it? It may seem like a over reaction, but to someone who is 12 years old, forming an identity, it hurt. It was an assumption that I was something I was not, and classified for looking the way I do that the label of “wetback” was placed upon me. To this day I struggle with that, If i speak or display any cultural identifiers, is that what people will assume about me? or where I come from. Needless to say that was my first lesson in race and generalization.
“You don’t know me, no judging”
As a kid, people call me brown sugar, or caramel, and think of me as a kid who crossed the border with her family illegally, because of my skin color. My family was always poor and had jobs that didn’t always keep roofs over our heads. We always ran or hid from the police and people judged us for that. Thinking that we were criminals. People would ask where I was born, and when I answered America, They would make a fuss of how I didn’t look white. This offended me because it made me think that I didn’t belong here and made me that I was a criminal and illegal like every other Mexican, according to them. They found a way to convince me that I shouldn’t play with their kids because I was or am a bad influence. Somehow, the police found out my parents were illegal and deported them back to Mexico for not having papers. Someway I will make these people know that not all Mexicans are criminals and aren’t illegal and a bad influence. I was born here and am legal. Not everybody born in The U.S.A is white. They are also colored, Asian, and like me: A Mexican. Although, we can help stop racism, by choosing right from wrong.
Race ain’t real, We are all the same
Race isn’t biologically real because people invented it to put other people in categories. Like the American Indians and Africans. They were put as slaves because they were a different colors than the Europeans. People back then believed that race was real. But today biological races don’t exist at all. The reason is because there is nothing in science or biology that proves that race actually defines who we are. Everybody is the same race. Nobody is different. Since we cannot point to something real that separates people of different races, we mustn’t look at race as a culturally defined label or something that puts people in categories.
Jigaboo, high yellow, octoroon, passing, pickaninny, mixed
Teri V. Markanson,
Crescent City, CA.
Before I knew what the definitions were, these words were used to describe me as a young child.
What’s wrong with the N word?
Ugo,
Spencer, WV.
Racism is a problem, I will admit that, but I also think that if black people don’t want to be called the N word by white people, then STOP CALLING EACH OTHER IT. I constantly hear black people throwing the word around to each other, but then suddenly a white person says that and they all get offended. Like okay, that word was used as an offensive term and stuff, but my question is, why is it okay for black people to say it to each other, but not a white person to a black person? I’m tired of it. This is the 21st century, get over the term or stop calling each other it.
Black girl name, White girl speech
Terynee,
East Lansing, MI.
My name is Terynee, my sister’s names are Tyani and T’Asia. These are all names my mother thought to be creative and beautiful. I love my name and both my sisters names, but when people “Try” and pronounce it, it is repeatedly devoured. I get that it is different but sometimes it is obvious people don’t try. They look at me and my name and before trying assume my mother made it up and it’s just too hard. The compliments on how I articulate myself and how professional I am despite my skin color are tiring. I have friends with fairly simple names and they are still insulted by the mispronunciations of their names. I am judged even before I am seen and able to speak. If it was not of my “articulation of words” could I be here? Would people still want to know more about me and would I still be accepted? I encourage young black women and anybody who has struggled with this to say their name clearly and with pride.
