Being Black Doesn’t Make Me Different

There’s so much more to it…

Image by: Filena Arcia

I just want to get straight to it. Right now, we can’t even say the “D” word in public. Racism and sexism have been so common place that the only way to right the ship is to say that we’re all the same.

But we’re not all the same. My older brother and I aren’t even the same, and neither is me and my younger brother. Just like my daughter isn’t the same as the girl in her classroom who’s from Iran.

But in this world where men have abused their positions as leaders and people of colour are treated prostitutes, we’re forced take the popular position that we’re all the same in order to reach some kind of equilibrium.

We’re in a place and time where we must be very very careful (Elmer Fudd voice) how we use the “D” word. Different is exclusionary. Different means that person can’t be included in this group we’ve created over here and we can’t have that. Not today. Especially not right now.

Not when black people have been marginalized, oppressed, murdered just because they were different. Not when women have been disrespected, beaten, and hunted, just because they were different. No, we are not different. We are all the same.

Except that being black isn’t what makes me different. Being born in Trinidad, raised in Toronto, becoming a parent at 19 and going to university in New York State; that’s what makes me different. It’s the collection of my experiences interpreted through my lens that makes me who I am. The hue of my skin should be incidental to those experiences.

But, of course, it’s not. And who knows when that won’t be the case. The fact is when I’m seen, it’s from the pretence of a black man first, and all the assumptions that come with that label. Without knowing anything about me other than the colour of my skin, I will be judged. My colour makes me different.

I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait till we’re past this period. I can’t wait till we don’t need the calling cards of #MeeToo and #BlackLivesMatter because the premise of those movements are based heavily on traits that shouldn’t cause this type of disruption.

It’s a heavy burden to walk into a room and feel pressure to be on my best behaviour so I dispel the stereotype put on every person of colour. It’s annoying that being the only black person in the room is still a thing. But that’s real. That’s where we are. That’s what we have to deal with.

So I’ll deal with it, until I don’t have to. And society will deal with it, till it no longer has to. Then one day I won’t have to write these frustration pieces. One day…

CRY

Being Black Doesn’t Make Me Different was originally published in C.R.Y on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.