Overcoming hate at first sight

Before most people meet me, they assume that I am Black. Take one look at my resume, academic major, class schedule, the walls of my room, or even my Facebook page interests, and if not accompanied by a picture or the real thing, people are often taken for surprise. I can recall several situations as I was going in for a job interview, or simply walking into someone's office when I was expected to arrive looking somewhat different. First there is a slight look of confusion. Then, the confusion quickly melts into an overly lit up expression of politeness, as a hand is extended, usually followed by the words: "Oh, you're Nicole!"

So before they meet me, people sometimes construct an image of me that isn't entirely true. Well, maybe not entirely untrue either. It really depends on how you view what “Black” is. Is it merely a skin color or can it also be an ideology, or a culture formed from hundreds of years of first physical and now economic oppression? To be Black, do I have to wear a certain type of clothing and listen to certain kinds of music? Can I only eat certain types of food, or only speak a certain way? I may define “Blackness” in ways different from some and others may embrace and share my definitions. In the ways in which I define Blackness, I could most certainly be a part of it. Blackness can’t be pinned down to one idea or to one word. There are only two things about Blackness of which I am certain—1) it is ever changing and evolving, and 2) having black or brown skin does not automatically make you understand the complexities of being "Black" in today's world.

Before coming to Michigan State and becoming more involved with classes, groups, and organizations dealing with African American studies and Black culture, I had relatively little interaction with people who were different from myself, both racially or ecnomically. The demographic simply did not exist in my quiet little farming town on the outskirts of Flint, Michigan. I grew up believing certain stereotypes and myths about Black people until I went to school. My ideas had never really been challenged and I had never interacted with Black people in any significant way that would have caused me to think differently. In the last 3 years that has changed dramatically, but it wasn't always easy. At least for me.

It wasn't much of a problem for me to get along with Black men. The guys that I hung out with at my residential college were pretty cool and were into a lot of the same things as I was. We would hang out after classes in the library, in the study lounges, and at meetings for groups such as the W.E.B. Du Bois Society and get to know each other. We would also go to Detroit on the weekends to tutor at-risk youth at a middle school. The car rides there and back were ways for all of us to bond and get to know one another. We talked a lot about race, and in many ways they helped me become more comfortable with relating with people that were different from myself. I grew very comfortable around them, but something was missing. I desperately wanted to be accepted by the seemingly elusive black women that were also in these groups, but they wanted really nothing to do with me. I can understand some of the historical reasons for this, but it didn't deter me from trying to become closer to them. At the same time, I was scared to death. Why should something so simple seem so impossible? When I walked into a room, I felt the eyes of every Black woman question my existence.

Every pair of eyes was asking...
whatchu doin' here, white girl?
whatchu lookin' at?
dontchu know you outta yo' mind to be here?
you can't talk like us
walk like us
look like us…
and don't even think about takin' our men.
you had yo' time to shine
when we was in the house
when we was in the fields
feedin' yo' babies from our own breasts
when ours went red faced and hungry.
nuh-uh white girl, get out.
where was you when we took to the streets
beggin 'for the lynchin' of our husbands and brothers and sons to stop?
you was too busy fixin' yo sashes and marchin' for yo' vote
you was too busy orderin' us to scrub yo floors like a dog
than to care about our losses or homes with no heat.
where was you when we needed you again, sister?
you told the world you was woman,
you made them respect YOUR rights,
but you kept us quiet.
what about us ain't woman like you?
white girl, you disappointed us.
white girl, you disappoint us.
don't call us Black bitch,
don't call us whore,
don't call us welfare lovers, ugly, fat, wide-nosed, dirty, lazy, ignorant,
big hipped, big lipped--
then come to our place lookin' for us to accept you.
girl, we don't wanna see yo' face.
we see it every day when we look in the mirror
makin' our hair stringy and straight like yours
bleaching our skin until our plastic blue eyes water.
white girl you best move on,
cuz we ain't got nothin' to say to you
and you go no time to listen.

I was patient, and eventually it paid off. Many events, protests, meetings, classes, study sessions, car rides, and girl giggle sessions later, I found myself in a very happy place. When it was obvious that I wasn't going anywhere and that I was seriously down with the cause, many of the black women really started to open up to me. I realized that for the majority of the time, it wasn't really that black women rejected me, but that I rejected me. As I accepted myself and the reasons why I was there, it became easier for all of us to open up to one another. When I stopped giving myself reasons to feel different, I immediately felt accepted. When I am in a room full of my best friends, many of who happen to be Black, I am not even aware of the fact that I have "white" skin. The only way I can really describe it would be... I see things through the common eyes of friendship and sisterhood... a powerful force that can only be built through struggling together and through building bonds of trust. I have few friends, but many sisters.

It would take books to describe how this transformation happened, to describe all the moments that built up to lead up to this becoming possible for any of us. Building sincere friendships that last, friendships between people from very different walks of life and those next door alike, isn't hard. You just gotta come to it with an open mind and put the heart into it. You don't have to prove yourself to anyone. Just let the work you do speak for you, and those you wish to hear it will listen.