Tell Me Who I Am, Who I Am

A person's race is an interesting subject. It's frustrating enough trying to figure what a person's character is, but to add the question of genetics is another twist to the mystery of someone. "What are you?" Well, what exactly does that mean? I answer, "African-American," but then people ask, "What country in Africa are your parents from?" My response, "I don't know," I receive puzzling looks.

I then give a summarized version of African-slavery in America. Then they say, "You don't look African," what does that mean? You can't tell by looking at someone what their place of origin is. But then I ask myself, "Am I African-American?" Just because I have darker skin and coarser hair, doesn't mean I'm "African-American," I'm an American, who's Black.

So, then I say, "I'm Black-American," but they say that I'm not Black, because my skin isn't as dark as theirs and my hair is not as nappy and I dress and act differently. So, then I tell them that my ancestors come from many places, including Africa, and this is why I look the way that I do and my culture is different. Then, they're confused why I call myself "Black". And a few months later, they'll ask me again, "What are you?" If Africans don't even think I'm Black, then what am I?

What is Black? This is a question the world has been asking for so long, because we're such a unique race with so many different colors, hair types, bone structures. We're sweet, too sweet to comprehend, even among ourselves (lol).