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by C.B.
Once again I was posed that infamous question, "Why did you choose to attend Florida State instead of FAMU?" Personally, don't think it's anybody's business and we shouldn't have to justify ourselves. People do things for different reasons. I received letters from every type of school imaginable, but FAMU never sent me a postcard, so why would I go to a school who obviously didn't want me?
I am a very color-conscious person, but when it comes to my education, that's where I draw the line. Granted, at a historically black college I would get a very memorable cultural experience, but what about when I go out into the "white" world? Will it prepare me for racism and discrimination?
It really ticks me off when my own black community misunderstands my actions and calls me a sell-out. My own personal understanding of the word is one with negative connotations; people who deny their own race because they think they are better and rather associate with the "better" race; a person who is not happy with the afrocentric features God blessed them with: beautiful, voluptuous, big lips; sexy, big behinds; wide noses; a rainbow of brown hues (milky cream, maize, luscious caramel, cocoa, chocolatey mocha, coconut, dark chocolate, and black licorice because black is truly beautiful). Why bleach your skin into blandness? Why destroy big lips for thin? Why liposuct the bootie? Why look possessed by wearing green or blue contacts?
They say since I go to Florida State, I am trying to be white. I couldn't be no more white than a white person trying to act black. It is culturally impossible. I am as black as they come. I had to be given the eye-opening lesson of being "different" and reassurance from my parents that I was no less of a person because of my skin color.
I learned at an early age that ignorance is the stem of all evil. Lil' white child on the bus wouldn't let me sit next to her. Nigger. Mommie, why do they call me that? Intelligent, black mother. Webster Dictionary. Nigger. Slave, servant. You're nobody's slave, child. Next time, tell them this . . . Lil' white child, ignorance once again. Difference: knowledge. I'm not a nigger. A nigger is a slave. White people can be niggers too. Say what? Weren't your ancestors indentured servants? Okay then, enough said. Next day, lil' white child on the bus . . and smiling lil' black child right next to her.
Black-eyed peas, buttermilk biscuits. Pig's feet. Chitlins. All things I grew up on. Culture. Hamhocks, collard greens. Neck-bones, rice. Oxtails. Culture. Martin Luther King. Malcolm X. Angela Davis. Frederick Douglass. Jesse Jackson. Culture. Cooleyhigh. Shaft. Good Times. Martin. Billie Holiday. The Supremes. James Brown. The Apollo. Marvin Gaye. Def Comedy Jam. Whitney Houston. Boys II Men. Jazz. Blues.Gospel. Rap. Culture. Corn rows. Naps. Straightening combs. Relaxers. Jheri Curls. Finger Waves. Culture, surrounding me since birth. I can't help but be black.
I am faced with my color every time I run into ignorance, be it from a lil' white child or my own brothas and sistas in color. I'm proud of my African-American heritage. Wouldn't have it any other way. We are such a diverse group of people. However, as the saying goes, "A people without knowledge of their past is like a tree without roots."
My roots run deep. Were instilled in me from the beginning of my time. We have enough problems being discriminated against by white society, so why discriminate and judge within our own color? This dissension within black cultural lines must cease. Be it a FAMU student or FSU student. Black-American or Jamaican-American. Whatever. It must all die if we're ever to rise as a people. We should all be black first and try to put an end to this never-ending story of racial tensions.
If we fight amongst ourselves, how can we expect the white man to respect us? How can we expect them to treat us better when we don't treat ourselves best? Martin Luther King's dream was that freedom ring from everywhere and that all God's children, black and white, be able to join hands and sing the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last." He fought for freedom with dignity and fought for desegregation, wanting us all to work together, struggle together, and pray together.
That sounds all nice and dandy, but society isn't shaped as such., so we have to make the best of this bad situation. Did you ever stop to think that, by going to school alongside our white counterparts, we keep his dream alive by trying to break down racial barriers? Proving we can accomplish the same things equally good or better? If we do not carry on his dream, his legacy of fighting for equality, his death would have been in vain.
As long as you know your history, don't forget where you came from, continue to uplift the African-American race and give back to your community. It shouldn't matter where you choose to go to school. Instead of judging each other and fighting amongst ourselves, we need to come together.
Unite! Because above all, there is truly power in numbers.
Story Copyright 1994, Author, C.B.
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