Source: blackandmarriedwithkids.com
The first professional job I ever had was teaching sexual health part-time at a nationally recognized non-profit. I traveled a short 20-minute commute outside of the city into the surrounding suburbs, but the differences between the two areas were like night and day. As I breezed along the expressway every morning and left the busy hustle and bustle of the inner city behind, I would always look at the opposing traffic braking and beeping loud and do a happy little shoulder-lean to my music over the fact that I didn’t have to be stuck in that mess everyday anymore. When I got off at my exit, it was clear that I wasn’t in Kansas anymore; the most popular spot in an area of all interstate and backwoods was the local Wal-Mart.
I was definitely out of my element, but I didn’t feel the urge to hightail it back to the city so I could be surrounded by people who looked like me and spoke like me. I embraced the duality that had just become my personal and professional life. This particular position meant that I was included in the administrative level of the organization, and surprisingly, I didn’t notice that not only was I one of the youngest employees on this level, but also the darkest. As I entered community meetings and corporate conferences, I knew based on my appearance alone that people thought I looked more like the young women I was teaching more than a facilitator. Still, I wasn’t uncomfortable, and even though I may have looked like I should be asking the questions instead of answering them, I knew that I belonged in those meetings. I’m educated, professional and damn good at what I do.
One of the things that I strive for in my career is to challenge young people to step outside of the world they know. So many young people are afraid to leave the 10 blocks of their neighborhood and unfortunately for some, that means that the only thing they will ever see are a lot of the same, whether that includes hustlers, baby mommas, crime, poverty–whatever. My parents always gave me a certain pride about my community, but they also made my childhood rich with experiences that took me outside of my familiar surroundings. As a result I feel just as comfortable at the block party BBQ as I do at a black tie gala.
But I’ll never forget a class I once observed. While a co-worker and I discussed the different opportunities students would have to visit places like the zoo and the art museum, the first question one young lady asked was, “Will there be white people there?” As we went on to discuss why this was her primary concern, she went on to reveal that she had never been an actual victim of racism, but simply felt like she didn’t belong and wasn’t comfortable around them.
(Image courtesy of blendedunity.com)
In a sense, I’m sure every African-American can relate or has related to this feeling at one time or another. You enter a new situation and instantly look for another black person because at the end of the day you assume they’ll relate to you on some level that other races can’t. Feeling like you have to talk or act a certain way in social situations so you won’t appear uneducated and “ghetto.” I’d be lying if I said that at some of those corporate meetings I didn’t feel like I was playing catch-up in a game where most of the white people already knew and made up the rules. I can even confess that there was a time when I constantly had to reassure myself that I was just as skilled and professional as any other person sitting around that boardroom. And the truth is, there was nothing that any white person ever did to make me feel that way. In fact even many of the colleagues I worked with were polite and even friendly and seemed more invested in the work we were accomplishing than they were worried about any race relations and diversity issues. Honestly, any discomfort I experienced was probably self-imposed.
So what can we do to make sure that our youth don’t feel instantly inferior or uncomfortable when they enter new situations where white people are the majority? I think it’s important to show them that not only is there diversity through different races, but within individual races as well. In my childhood I saw plenty of black athletes and unfortunately, even criminals, but I also saw black business owners, bankers, nurses and more. Unfortunately, these examples are limited in the media, so that means you might have to get on a bus or in the car and do some traveling for some in-the-flesh examples. It’s also important to educate our children. There’s nothing stronger than a person with good balance of street smarts and book knowledge because the saying is true: No one can take your education from you. Encourage your children to read books from people of all backgrounds and teach them how to carry themselves in any situation so that they can defy the assumptions that they suspect people may make about them. Lastly, reassure them that they do belong. They have just as much of a right to be in the art museum, an Ivy League university or even shaking the hands of senators in Washington D.C. as anyone else. It’s important that we challenge some assumptions that we historically hold as well. I just had a cousin who was accepted into a university that was located a few hours from home, and it took everything in me to not flip out on family members who tried to convince her not to go because they assumed it was a racist place (because of the lack of diversity). We can’t allow our fears (real or imagined) to hold us or our children back from bettering ourselves.
While we embrace our history this month and every month and those who have struggled to make a way for our communities, we should also not allow ourselves to be prisoners of the past and prisoners of our own communities. Dare to be different and explore opportunities that you may have avoided because you were worried that you would be that “awkward black person” left out. Even if it means shopping at a mall that’s in a different neighborhood, or going to a school where your race is the minority, the best gifts that we can give our children is the courage to make a change, the confidence to know that they belong and the strength to stand out.
Have you ever felt uncomfortable being the “minority” in a situation?
Toya Sharee is a community health educator and parenting education coordinator who has a passion for helping young women build their self-esteem and make well-informed choices about their sexual health. She also advocates for women’s reproductive rights and blogs about everything from beauty to love and relationships. Follow her on Twitter @TheTrueTSharee.
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