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My skin doesn’t reveal my soul

Traci Neal,
Columbia, SC

As long as I can remember, growing up in the South, I have had my experiences with racism. I think, in some ways, it became normal for me to encounter it occasionally. Still, nothing would prepare me for what I would face in April 2023. I am a professional poet. I felt amazing to be a part of a book anthology for African American poets.

We, poet contributors, were celebrating our book launch on April 26, 2023, via Zoom. We were halfway through where poets were reading their individual poems. All of a sudden, we get Zoom bombed by a hacker who puts up these derogatory images of male private parts and was shouting the “n” word while typing it in the chat. It hurt to my core so much that I had to walk away from my husband’s laptop.

Many thoughts ran through my mind that night and sleep didn’t seem to even be an option for me. It took a few days to reflect and wrap my mind around it all, but I am sharing this story as a declaration. I have a soul. It is beautiful. It matters. It cares about humanity. My skin doesn’t reveal my soul. It just opens up the door for conversation and maybe even growth. You can never judge a book until you take the time to read it. I hope each of us will listen more in order to learn more.

Redefining the south’s reputation for racism.

Lanthe Keller,
Knoxville, TN

I grew up in a small suburb outside of Seattle, WA. I played with and had friends in my class who looked nothing like me and only when moving to the south did I realize I had never seen so many white children. The south has a reputation for racism, it’s nestled in conversations, and, at times, the backbone of relationships. I want to redefine this horrid stigma that has persisted and help others understand that when you are born, based on the color of your skin, you have a societal privilege that no white person will ever be able to understand.

The University of Tennessee, Knoxville

Knowing Where and Who You are

Tyrone Aiken,
Kansas City, MO

I am in Kansas City, from New York thinking about my parents great migration from South Carolina. Knowing where I am informed who I am and how I am perceived in the world. Driving while black, being followed in a store, won’t rent me an apartment in this neighborhood. Learning at an early age not to react, wishing to sometimes be carefree, and knowing my guard is always up.

Biracial White/Asian Travels to Southern States

fb5816c55d244e4a96def584ea01baf8_ASean B.,
Riverside, CA.

I am half white and half Filipino. Growing up in a melting pot such as Southern California has been awesome. I never truly understood how lucky I was to live here until I traveled to the south (multiple states) to visit family. My wife is Filipina (born in the south). While I seemed to get along OKAY in the south (most people thought I was Mexican or Southern European of sorts because of my dark hair), people would stare at my wife as if she were some sort of unknown entity. People weren’t necessarily rude, but they would just stare as if they had never seen an Asian person in real life before. A white waitress even bowed her head to my wife after serving her a drink (which was HILARIOUS btw). I guess that I can see how people get comfortable in small towns, and that’s all they know, which leads to them never wanting to leave their small town. This especially makes sense for individuals who are part of the majority, and never traveled to coastal areas where whites are sometimes the minority.

I never really thought of myself as a minority until I traveled to the south. To all of the biracial individuals in the south: You can have a better quality of life in most coastal and liberal states. I think that Florida and some parts of Texas seem okay for minorities as well.

Here in the melting pot of California, I am the unknown. I’m used to it, and if anything, I’ve learned to use it to my advantage. I view myself as somewhat of a social chameleon. Latinos/Asians assume I’m white, but once they find out I’m half Asian it’s like we all of the sudden have this shared ‘you’re a minority so you get it’ bond. Which is fine by me. Whites are usually unsure of what I am because while I have an Irish first name and French last name, my hair is a little on the dark side. They assume I must be some kind of European. Perhaps Spanish? Maybe even part Mexican since this is Southern California. I grew up in a diverse neighborhood and had a lot of Mexican, White, Filipino and Black friends, so I honestly feel that I can relate to most people. I’ve had a black person tell me, “I don’t really view you as a white person-you’re just Sean.” I have a diverse group of friends and family, and we all bring our different cultures to the table, and we all have a great time. We bust each other’s chops a lot, but it’s all in good humor.

I have a good career, and I make pretty good money. Sadly, I’m not sure that I would have been given the opportunities that I’ve been given had I been viewed as a minority, which would certainly have been the case had I went to school and started my career in the south. I never really thought too deeply about racism until I traveled to the south. Racism is just not as prevalent here. I guess that this is somewhat cathartic for me. Soon, I will be applying to schools for a very competitive field that requires a professional/doctorate degree. A lot of programs are in the south. While I am admittedly somewhat hesitant to apply, I feel that it might be a good life experience. Surprisingly enough, my wife loves the south and wouldn’t mind moving–Go figure?

Slave owning ancestors mortgaged my future.

Buford Woolley,
Pittsburgh, PA.

My mostly white family tree flows through S Carolina, Georgia, Virginia, Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee, Arkansas, Texas, Oklahoma, and lastly California where I was born. Many were slave owners. One outlier was lynched because he supported the Union and opposed slavery. The question to me, did my ancestors mortgage my future?

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