When I was growing up, four of us lived in a one bedroom apartment in Queens New York. At the time it was all I knew so I thought nothing of it but now as an adult I realize how hard it was for my mother to provide things that so many of us take for granted, like personal space, privacy, and a safe neighborhood to live in.
We moved to a bigger apartment (two bedrooms). My mother, sister and I slept on a king size bed and my brother had a twin bed in his own room. Even then I wasn't aware that my mother was struggling. Living in a bigger apartment in a better neighborhood felt like we were a world apart from our old place. There were kids in the neighborhood to play with and there wasn't a shortage in friendly neighbors. We were living in a Caribbean-American middle class neighborhood in Cambria Heights, New York.
I once heard word of the neighborhood having previously been predominantly Jewish however, as more Blacks moved into the community, the Jewish families moved away. At the time, I didn't understand why the Jewish families moved. I wasn't particular about who my neighbors were so long as they were kind and welcoming to children. Apparently the Jewish families were a bit more particular. There was also a Hispanic family that lived one block over. They had a son who would frequently come outside of his home and had a crush on my best friend at the time. One day they were talking about taking in some sun and tanning. He replied he didn't like to sit in the sun because he tans "dirty". When asked what he meant by that, he pointed to me and said "dirty like her color." My best friend at the time, who was biracial and being raised by her Black Haitian mother was upset by what he said and decided against speaking to him again. I followed suit.
Even then, you don't realize just how deep the rabbit hole goes when it comes to racism. Just when you think that you discovered the root of racism, you find that you have to delve deeper. I went to a junior high school that was located in Bayside, New York. Most of the kids in the school were Asian, and if they weren't Asian, they were White. When I sat in my class of about 20 children, I noticed that there were only 5 black kids in my class. When I observed other classes, I saw that there were about the same number of Black children in every sixth grade class. Five seemed to be the maximum number of Black kids to every class. By that time, I realized that this wasn't by coincidence, it had to be by design. Throughout my three years at that school, I can say that I was never met with racism from any of my peers. If they disliked me solely because of my race I was completely unaware.
Fast forward to my adulthood. I have performed numerous roles within my career and more often than not, my workplace mirrored my middle school. There would be a handful of Blacks and I was one of the chosen few. I started to wonder why this is. Why are there not more people that look like me ? I began to wonder if my employment with some of the companies I worked for was due to no other reason than to check a box for diversity and inclusion. Was I hired on merit, or to meet a quota? These are the common insecurities that I experience as a Black woman.
I don't think most White people have to wonder why they were hired. I also don't think most Whites have to wonder why all of Blacks or Jews moved out of their neighborhood just because they moved in. These are things that Black people have to think about.
I recall being pulled over by a police officer that had my car towed and I was on the street with my 2 year old daughter over a temp tag that was expired by a day. When I asked him why he would go to the extreme and tow my car rather than give me a ticket he smirked at me and said he was just trying to keep his neighborhood clean. CLEAN? That changed me.
Another time, I was leaving a friends house and got lost on Lee Highway in Virginia. I tried to ask so many people for directions to the beltway and everyone would glance at me through their window and then fix their stare straight ahead of them as if I wasn't even there. It was in that moment that I I was aware of being Black. See, I knew I was Black all along but it suddenly became apparent to me. I'm Black and these White people aren't going to help me because I'm Black. I'm going to be stuck on Lee Highway until I drive in either direction and run into the beltway. Thankfully a Hispanic man saw me attempting to ask everyone and took the time to drive to the beltway so I could follow him.
My takeaway from that experience is that some people are human and kind while others will look at a Black person as a dirty tan.
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