Thursday, December 4, 2014

Being "The Black Girl"

I’m sure a lot of people weren’t quite sure how to feel when they saw the title of this post. Don’t worry, though. This is just what I do. I talk about my personal experiences. You know that by now if you’ve read one of my blogs before. Nevertheless, this particular post, is very hard for me to write. Because this is a deep, personal, and sort of uncomfortable thing to write about. But this has to be said. It has to be discussed. I was going to just not publish this blog post and come up with something else to write about. But hey, I wrote about being a Christian, modesty, suicide, and just about everything else, so why not mention the obvious?

This time, we’re going to go a little bit deeper. If you get offended easily, or you just don’t like hearing/reading about racial issues, I highly suggest that you just wait until January 2015 to read my next post.

 On the contrary, if you’re interested in what I have to say on the matter, then let’s get started.

In the beginning, there was Gabrielle. A little girl who loved school, mostly art class, and who had no idea what was out there in the world. Sure, Gabrielle learned about civil rights, slavery, segregation, and everything else attached to the history of her people, but she had no idea that the world was still programed to discriminate against color.

Honestly, I thought that everything ended once slavery did. I thought that everyone would just get along and live in one big happy world. But nope. That’s not the way things went down.

After I learned about slavery, I learned that there were the Jim Crow laws, segregation, riots, marches, so on and so forth. So did everything stop then? No, it did not.

In today’s world, some are just openly racist. It’s sad, really. We’re all humans, no matter the gender or race. And let’s just get one thing straight right now: the racial issue is not just with whites discriminating against blacks. It could be vice versa. Trust me, I’ve met a few blacks who just hate white people. And it’s so silly to me, because they don’t even have to know that person and they just hate them because of their race. Like, seriously? “Oh, you know white people.” Like um, I don’t know that white person. Do you? No.

Racism can even exist with other races or cultures. There are people who hate Asians, or even Hispanics for no reason. Why is this even necessary?

It really saddens me. If some people weren’t so racist, then things in the world would work a whole lot smoother. It’s a beautiful things when different people from diverse cultures and backgrounds come together. Truly, it is. If I had three wishes, I would wish that everyone could just get along, and ignore the racial stereotypes and everything. Love is color blind. If someone black wants to be friends with someone white, they shouldn’t have to go through the whole thing with their family and black friends saying things like, “Why are you friends with a white person?” HONESTLY. Stop it. And as you can imagine, I fully support interracial couples. Those people must have to go through a lot to be in love. I mean, you’d think that in today’s world the public would accept two different people being together. I actually know real people who are quicker to accept a homosexual couple, as supposed to an interracial one. We’ll talk more about later. Right now, I’m going to tell you about my personal experiences. Which have led me to write this, by the way.

So back when I was in public school, (the good old days…I’m being sarcastic. I hated it) most of my classmates were African American. Therefore, I never really felt left out because of my race. I felt left out because of being myself, but never for the color of my skin. The only racist experience I’ve had growing up, was when I would go into the grocery store, and people would steer their shopping carts the other way once they saw I was in the aisle they needed to go to. Of course after I left the aisle, they would go to get what they needed. That always hurt. But I learned to live with it.

Soon after I was home schooled for a while, I was surrounded by mostly whites. I mean, of course I was. Finding black teens who are homeschooled is pretty rare. For me and where I live, anyway. And the ones that I did meet, we’re very inappropriate. Sad, but true.

I was totally fine with not being a part of the majority. I actually learned to get used to it. It had its upsides, of course. Most of my white friends made me feel really special when I decided to go natural. Which was pretty strange, since my black friends didn’t. I got remarks from my black friends like, “I liked it better straight.” And “When are you getting your hair done again?” or “It looks nappy.”

It’s thick, beautiful, fluffy and curly, thank you very much.

Then of course we had the dreadful times of when my friends could use the same color powder, same brand lipstick and everything else, while I had to bring my own. I got used to that too. I just made sure to bring my Black Radiance with me.

Then there was that upsetting fact that my white friends could share ideas for hairstyles, while I was just sitting there awkwardly like, oh don’t worry about me. I’ll just go home and look up natural hair styles on Youtube by myself. Sigh.

Then there was the whole racial interrogation. Where I would get racial stereotypical questions like, “Do you like rap music?” and “Do you like fried chicken?”

Maybe the people who have asked me these questions never meant to offend me, but it offended me nevertheless. I was also asked if I liked Beyonce, which I figured was just a regular question since everyone likes Beyonce now. I don’t know if it’s always been that way, but yeah…I have no comment.

Also, there were those extremely awkward questions like, “How did you get your hair like that?” and “Did you get a haircut?” Everyone who knows me, knows that I would never ever get a haircut.

 *Taylor Swift voice* like…ever.

It’s the shrinkage. Literally, it’s the shrinkage. I hate shrinkage. It’s a natural hair thing.

That about does it for the small things. Now here are the big things.


I know right? I don’t think I can go one post without talking about boys. Wait, I’ve done it once, I just can’t remember when it was. I love boys, okay? Now, I was boy crazy for about one minute when I was 14. I will admit that now. But for the most part, everything that was going on with me in that category was totally normal. I mean, what kind of a teenage girl would I be if I wasn’t crushing on someone new every few months? The longest time I’ve ever crushed on a guy was like a year and a half. And that’s a long time in Gabrielle time, okie dokie? I normally don’t like a guy longer than 3 months before he does something super jerk-like, and then I have to move on. No one likes a jerk. Anyway, let’s get down to it.

Obviously, I’m kind of different. I really wish that I wasn’t sometimes, but I am. I’m totally not bragging, because I used to literally get on my knees and pray and beg God to make me normal. So yeah.

But since I’m so different, I have a different taste. In music; I do not know one R&B song. Maybe I do, but I’m almost sure I don’t. Watch all the black people shake their heads at me. I don’t care, I’d rather listen to Daughtry and Fall Out Boy. Told you my taste was different. Who goes from listening to pop, to religious, to indie, and then rock?

 This girl.

In clothes; you already know how modest I am. Sorry, not sorry. Don’t worry, a few years from now when I have my kick butt clothing line, and I’m on the cover of every other magazine, everyone will see my vision differently. I assure you.

And of course, in boys. I used to not think about boys at all. I just figured that I didn’t have to worry. I thought my love life would be like a movie, and “the one” would just come floating past me one day with the label, “Gabrielle’s future husband” taped across his forehead. But I’m 16 now, and turns out, I actually have to go out there and get my heart broken over and over again before I find the one I’m supposed to be with forever. Like, what is this? Ugh, and boys these days. I wish I could just make my own future husband. Well, technically my perfect husband material is already out there. I love you Ashton Irwin.

My taste is boys is just simply whatever. I do prefer them to be my height or taller. Preferably taller. Boys who are 6 feet and over are very important. All teenage girls know this.

And of course, they have to treat me like the prize that I am or it’s on to the next one. Did you notice anything about this description? I didn’t put what race I like. Because I. don’t. care. They all get a chance! Cheers for the all the boys who like me. Wait, there are none. And honestly, I meant what I said, race doesn’t matter to me. Because love is color blind, remember. But I will admit, I do tend to go for white guys most of the time. (Didn’t think I’d admit it, did you? Well I beat you to it! Ha!) Let me explain why:

When I was around mostly African American guys, they called me ugly, fat and the b word. Oh and they didn’t find me attractive because I don’t have a big butt. Honestly, I can’t tell you how many times I was called “Paper Plate Butt”. I was also told that I wasn’t black enough. I remember one guy told me that he might as well be talking to a white girl. Like, how am I not “black enough”? Do you see melanin in my skin?  Honestly.

And when I was around mostly white guys, they treated me nicer (most of the time). Literally, all the white guy friends I’ve ever had will just let me talk and talk until my head explodes and find everything I find so interesting. While on the other hand, most black guys would tell me that I talk too much. That’s just my personal experience, okay? Okay.

So there we have it, why Gabrielle likes white boys. I can’t believe I just typed that. Don’t get me wrong, if I ever met a nice black who met my standards and didn’t treat me like a piece of dirt that he scraped off the bottom of his shoe, then I’d totally give him a chance. I really would. Because it’s the hard knock life for a black girl who likes white guys, let me tell ya. I’ve been through so much stuff because of this. And the sad thing is, I shouldn’t have to. I should be able to like whoever the heck I want to. Everyone should. What was that? It couldn’t be that bad, you say? Well, allow me to enlighten you.

The first time I ever liked a white guy was when I was in elementary school. We were so little, the only thing we knew was the alphabet and how to count to 10. The two of us always held hands and sat together where ever we went. He would always telling me how pretty I was, and kiss me on the cheek. Good times. Good innocent times.

Flash forwards a few years later, I see him playing basketball on the blacktop. I walk up to him eventually, assuming he would be happy to see me. He was at first, but then this blonde girl comes out of nowhere and just stands beside him. She asks the boy who I was and he simply replies, “I don’t know.” Ouch. It still hurts, just writing about it.

Now I’m going to tell you about another random situation that happened earlier this year.

So not that long ago, there was this guy. I liked this guy for a few months, but I didn’t tell anyone. Not my friends, not anyone. I don’t even think I told my mom, and I tell my mom everything. Especially when it comes to boys. But I didn’t really have to urge to tell anyone about this. I thought that it was just a small crush and that it would go away with time. It didn’t. Basically, I found out that this guy liked me too, but when my friend (who is white) found out about it, she sabotaged it. Some friend you are. I’m telling you, there is nothing more dangerous than a fake friend, regardless of the race and gender.

So maybe I said something weird and out of proportion in this post, but you have to remember that I'm only 16 years old. Even though I'd like to think that I'm mature for my age, I'm still learning things and changing and growing. I know that haven't even been through half of the ups and downs that will occur in my life yet, and that's okay. I'm ready for them. I just thought that I'd share my experiences with far. Until next year!