On Being Camouflaged

I am (my name ) a, but before I can be myself, I have some other business I must attend to. Sometimes my plans have to get put on hold. Rain checks are consistently scheduled and I wait patiently in the back of the line for my turn: I’m black. And when you're black, you have to choose without having any choices at all. Confinement. What happens when you're the only one that looks like you in the room? When my history class goes to talk about slavery (the only unit that touches on my history), everyone looks towards my direction as if I’m the race representative for all black people in America. “How does this make your ancestors feel? ” I think to myself “What kind of question is that? Do you think they enjoyed being tortured?” I politely respond “ No clue. Your guess is as good as mine.” 

I look to the dictionary in hopes of making a self-diagnosis to heal my condition; Code Switching: the practice of alternating between two or more languages or varieties of language in conversation. I have two sides. You could call me “two-faced” but that phrase holds no value to the disposition of my survival. If you were told to hold yourself up from my non-existent bootstraps, perhaps you would understand. Like a chameleon, I have been forced to camouflage myself into the world that surrounds me and sometimes I feel torn between my colors. Even when given the choice, I am still torn between which decision is the right one to make. No matter how hard I try to please everyone, I will always let down one side of me. I am always in a constant battle with myself and I have come to the understanding that I have to make a choice. No shades of gray, it’s simple: Black or White. 

My hair is a feature that defines me. My natural curls are considered “ unfit for the workplace” and corporate America suggests that I take a more straight approach. So when it comes time for job interviews and special events, I spend hours tending to my vociferous coils. Nobody tells you what to do when you get caught in the rain and your waves decide to return home to their native state and all my hard work has literally been washed down the drain. If anyone happens to know Becky with the good hair, let her know that she's my idol. 

 Too white to be black, too black to be white. If I pronounce my words appositely and excel in my education, then to my black peers, I'm considered a “sell-out” or an “Uncle Tom”. I’m only expected to do the bare minimum and it almost feels as if I’m encouraged to continue to lay in the despair that left my people in deprivation for hundreds and hundreds of years. I am tired of waiting. I’m fed up with rain checks and I mentally can’t make any more choices. 

 So many people that I am surrounded with every day haven't experienced racism firsthand. My classmates don’t realize that the little opportunities they have are luxuries to me. Their jokes and snares and looks, they hurt. Over time they stop hurting, and they start to burn. If you care to look, I have the mental scars to prove it. I have to work twice as hard just to be mediocre in society and no matter how fast I run or how hard I try, white privilege will always be waiting for me at the finish line while biting down on a shiny gold medal.  

Born into this world, I was blended with all my flaws and imperfections but amongst them, I find wholeness. I am not a representation of blackness but rather a model for beauty and class. I am an entirety, I am not a lack of anything; rather I am a whole of many things. I wouldn’t change my warm, brown, caffeinated, melanin skin even if I could.  My culture and diverse mentality are what make me who I am. So you can call me camouflaged, I promise it won’t hurt me. Normally I have some other business to attend to. Usually, my plans get put on hold, I have to take a rain check or I must wait patiently in the back of the line for my turn. But today, your labels are no longer valid here. Contrary to popular belief, I always have been and always will be (my name) with no strings attached. What label are you choosing to erase from society today?