Opinion: Who Am I?
October 16, 2020
Editor’s Note: The following piece contains strong language including the use of a racial epithet. While typical journalistic style calls for partially censoring such language, we felt it was important to the integrity of the piece and the author’s intent to leave the language intact.
What am I? Obviously to you, I am not human. For if I was human, it would not take protests for you to see that you should not beat me.
So what am I? Obviously to you, I am not an American; for if I was an American, Breonna Taylor would be receiving justice. We know that I am Black, but is there not more than that? You are White, you are Privilege, you are the Standard, you are the American, but above that you are human. What am I missing in my skin, in my heart, in my soul that you refuse to see? For years this country has beaten those that looked like me, it has stripped me of my history and forced me to accept a dream that you force yourself to believe.
Until recently, you had succumbed to that dream, finally ridding yourself of the reality that minorities are unable not to see. You claim all lives are equal, you preach “Make America Great Again”; yet somehow you turn off the fact that there is no such thing as either for people that look like me.
However, you know that already. That is why you enjoy saying and believing it. You enjoy a world that you never had to experience, because you are rooted in a lifestyle that is comfortable for you. You enjoy the past, because the past was a fairy tale that you were allowed your happy endings. You tell me I should not grieve slavery, yet you force me to relive a bombing that tore through the twin towers, killing many of our fellow Americans. You tell me slavery was better than welfare, but disregard that it is you whom most often use welfare.
The real joke of all of this is that you would hate to experience my reality at the cost of your dream.
Black people have been screaming our lives matter since the moment we were forced to build the very country you love. Black people were crying our lives matter as we watched our sons and daughters be crucified by your hands. Black people have begged for you to see that our lives matter since your men snatched us and forced our mothers to breed your children, while you feed ours to alligators. You say you worship a God, yet who am I, if not the child by the same God you believe to worship. You say he tells you to love, but it requires your rights to be lost before you stick up for mine? You say he cares, but where are your tears for Breonna Taylor, Eric Gardner, and the endless names of innocent Black humans that were killed while living a lie you forced us to see? You say he is fair, but what fairness have you shown me that I did not have to fight for you to give?
What am I? Am I the negro, the nigga, the motherfucker, and the other names you reduced me to accept? No, today those words make you comfortable only when you see that I am not in the room. Am I the fear that you harbor, as you realize you truly have no real power? You are scared. No need to lie. You fear my happiness, because it means you become just like me. A human being that has to fight for his position in a world mindlessly chasing their dreams.
If you did not fear me, you would stand with me to call out institutions raising tuition when many of us are jobless. If you did not fear me, you would stand by my side to denounce the laws built to surpass me. Or maybe, you do not believe I am human. For what human would want to endure slavery before being allowed welfare? If I described the blessings of the Holocaust; you would condemn me. If I laughed on 9/11, you would hold me accountable. Yet when it comes to slavery, you simply say “it was a choice.”
So White Americans, what I am? At least tell me what I am, before you strip me of who I am meant to be.
Charles Etta Lewis • Oct 27, 2020 at 3:18 am
“Do not get lost in a sea of despair. Be hopeful, be optimistic. Our struggle is not the struggle of a day, a week, a month or a year. It is the struggle of a lifetime. Never ever be afraid to make some noise and get in good trouble, necessary trouble.” John Lewis.
Stay yourself, much love Granny
Ashanti • Oct 24, 2020 at 6:49 pm
To my son, I am so proud of you for this amazing, transparent, expression of writing. Continue to use your voice and pen. I love you Christion…Mom 💋
Alum '07 • Oct 19, 2020 at 12:04 pm
Hi Anonymous,
Thank you for first assuming that I am a person of privilege simply by the basis of my skin color. I’m actually an immigrant from a country where genocide was committed based on ethinicity. So, I might know a thing or two about injustice.
Yes, actually doing something to help out would be great. And part of that is writing pieces to bring us all together. It is finding common ground and rooting a movement in love not anger. I have no doubt that the writer feels good writing the piece and expressing his anger, but what does that ACTUALLY do to help out. Does it bring us closer together? Write pieces that bring people together and you will be doing something to help out! Love is the answer.
Michelle Obama, said, “When they go low, we go high.” I think that’s the answer. When you’re confronted with angry racists, take the high road. Don’t come back with an equally racist argument which similarly boxes all white people into some sort of “white devil” stereotype. That’s really not going to make things better.
And that’s the challenge that I made earlier. How can this piece be re-written where it remains raw and honest, but is founded in love for everyone. It’s tough, but I think it can be done. Just trying to help you out here and provide some helpful feedback so that people ACTUALLY will listen rather than grow more unsympathetic after reading something like this.
Anonymous • Oct 18, 2020 at 9:50 pm
Alum ’07, please stop trying to tell black people how to express their pain. Black people have been trying to tell White America nicely about the racism and injustice we’ve been facing for the last 400 years but obviously it’s not working. The writer has every write to be pissed off. They shouldn’t have to tell you sweetly not to be a racist.
If your first step after reading this is to wallow in self pity because a black person is tired of not receiving justice in the country that declares ‘Liberty and Justice for All,” get a grip.
As a white person, you have positions of privilege others do not. You can use it to help others. It is not black people’s responsibility to cater to your feelings. If you really FEEL for them, then ACTUALLY do something to help us out. Not ask them to say it nicely.
Alum '07 • Oct 16, 2020 at 12:33 pm
After reading this, I learned what I am? Apparently, an evil white devil responsible for all the wrongs in the world. I also have no capacity for empathy and cannot possible recognize the pain or plight of anyone else or any other group of people.
I feel for the writer but essays like this is not how we all come together. Love is the answer. How would you rewrite this essay with the same points but written with love for your fellow citizen rather than anger? I think it can be done. In fact, it would be amazing to see it done.