I won’t stay silent, because I am done being vanilla.
I am done trying to please everyone for the sake of being accepted.
Oh, and I am absolutely done laughing at racist jokes simply because “they are only jokes”.
Finally, something in me is switching and I recognize how much harm I was creating within myself and those around me.
It is time to wake the fuck up.
But hey, I haven’t always felt like that.
Years ago, I would have laughed nervously at any racist joke, truly believing they were simply jokes.
I mean, if you say you were joking while mocking my skin color or my afro hair, why would I take it seriously?
I would look at the mirror and see someone that I wouldn’t and couldn’t embrace. My black skin and my curly, dry hair were just the outside of what I couldn’t stand about myself, just like a faulty package.
Then I had to deal with the inside.
Why the fuck am I black?
Why the fuck was I born black, in a white family, with white friends?
And most importantly, why did I even care so much?
So, obviously, the next thing I did was ignore this part of me as much as I could.
Blending in with other white people, traveling the world, and nourishing a single part of me. I felt like I was loving my white side because it was the only part of me that enabled me to survive.
I could laugh at racist jokes, easily secure jobs, avoid hard questions and conversations and have a hella good time while doing it.
Now, you know when you absolutely do not want to clean your apartment and you sweep everything under the rug?
You might call it a day, but in time all that dirt will come back at you and it’s gonna be much harder to clean the apartment.
If only I had taken the time to clean my own apartment day by day…
One day, it hit me.
It wasn’t anything special or something I hadn’t experienced before when someone asked me for the umpteenth time:
“Yes, but where are you really from?”
Followed by a simple, almost casual: “Because you sure do not look Italian”
Yes: this is when I decided that I won’t stay silent anymore.
Every time I think about that moment, I find myself either wanting to cry all day or to hit someone hard.
But if I could take one positive thing from that stupid conversation, it’s that it moved something inside me. It was time.
It was time for me to start asking myself some questions, to try to understand why I neglected my Black Identity for such a long time and how I could start working on it.
So I took the leap and I simply shared my thoughts and feelings with my community (this community!). Soon after, I was able to connect with many other people that were feeling the same and could resonate with me.
Suddenly, I wasn’t alone.
Men and women were sharing their stories with me. And it wasn’t solely about that. I learned about their struggles, their victories, and how this translated into life.
And just like that, a new community within my community was born and it was the rawest, most vulnerable, and resilient space I could have hoped for.
This is how “Identities: being Black” was born.
This next section of my blog will be all about the struggles, wins, and life experiences of black people.
But hey, do not expect us to provide any kind of teaching, because this is not what we are here for.
Instead, we will let you walk in our shoes, feel our feelings, maybe shed some of our tears, and celebrate our accomplishments.
You will (hopefully) learn how to relate to us through our stories and next time, you will be more emotionally equipped to respond in an intelligent and educated way.
With everything going on in the world right now, this is the perfect moment to reflect on who we are as individuals, as parts of our communities and families, and the impact we want to make on this planet.
To question some ideas that might not align with who we are and dismantle racism, one step at a time.
This won’t be easy and it’s not meant to be. The effort that needs to be put forth by anyone and everyone is deep and meaningful, both internally and externally.
We must take on the hard task of putting in the work, digging into the crevices of our own actions, calling out the injustices we encounter on a day-to-day basis, and being brave enough to admit our own mistakes while moving forward with consciousness, integrity, and heart.
Because this isn’t about picking apart what has happened over the last few weeks, months or 400 years in order to make yourself feel better. This isn’t about needing to justify the actions of blatant racism, systematic oppression, police brutality, or the struggles that black people face on the daily simply for being black.
This is about the unquenchable and undeniable truth that race isn’t the problem. Racism is.
“Identities: Being Black” is a space meant to give voice to those individuals who struggle to find their identity in a world that wants to put everyone in a box with a label. It is a space that fosters personal power, vulnerability and meaningful connection and conversations.
It is a space to listen, learn and process in a real way that moves mountains and brings change to this world on an emotional and physical level.
It’s a space where we are finally able to say,
“I’m black and I’m proud as hell. Now let me share my story with you.”
I won’t stay silent. Are you ready to take some space?
