Archive | March 2015

Black and Foreign …My Experience

In my every day life, for as long as I could remember being black was a confusing concept….for me at least. I remember being in elementary school, in NY and heavily using Ebonics. Ebonics for me was my primary language. I got older, and the year of my tenth birthday; my family and I moved to Pennsylvania.
In Pennsylvania, I attended a suburban school where a teacher took interest in me and began to mentor me. I love my mentor despite her strict moments. She always corrected my speech. I oftentimes used slang terminology in place of actual words,  and my grammar left much to be desired.  I know that my grammar is still in a state of disrepair, but I’m getting off track.
After years of influence, thanks to my mentor; I no longer spoke as if I had a 3rd grade education. Junior high rolled around and I decided this is when I am going to start building up towards an amazing HS experience. I attempted to to make friends with the other kids and some it was easy others it was difficult. I remember asking the other kids why they just didn’t like me and was met with a look of disgust followed by this response “You look poor, and who names a black girl Hannah”. To my surprise this wasn’t a “white” kid saying this it was a “black ” kid saying this to me. I honestly didn’t know how to process this. So I hung out in the library and slowly my social circle became predominantly white. The black kids in my school thought that it was my attempt at being white,  and that I was ashamed at being black. When in actuality they were just  nicer to me, and had similar taste and interest.
Fast forward to adulthood and I am still dealing with similar stuff. I have been rejected by my peers at work because of my mannerism, and the fact that I choose not to slang. I am often met with people feeling like I’m better than them because of the way I simply carry myself. Also my name, as pretty as it is, is a no no.  As an adult I deal with negative reactions from both sides of the fence. Whether it be black, or white, some people just assume if you look black you should  fit a certain criteria. I remember working a retail job and a customer came up to me and asked me about a rap artist, to which I responded “I am sorry I don’t listen to rap” she then said to me word for word “how you black and don’t listen music,  I call bullshit ” I shrugged and apologized and said “I like rock, Punk Rock,  metal and the like” the woman rolled her eyes “you know you black right!? ” and paid for her merchandise and left the store. There was another instance when a customer, an elderly Caucasian guy came into my store and he looked at first I just smiled and greeted him and went about my tasks. The gentleman made his way over to the register and I began to ring him out,  he began to stare. I laughed nervously and joked about something being on my face,  he responded “you look foreign, your eyes and cheek bones…. where are are you from?” I smiled and answered “my family and I are from Trinidad, it’s in the Caribbean” the gentlemen then responded “oh yeah what part of Africa is that? ” I blinked a few times in disbelief and calmly said “it’s not part of Africa, it’s located in the Caribbean, and said you know black people or people of color whatever you choose to say, can literally be found all over the world. We aren’t all natives of Africa” the man smiled and said “I thought for sure that was an African country ” I laughed and thanked the man for his business and wished him well.
It’s not much better with my friends, I’m often introduced as the whitest black person they know, and told that I sound “white”. I told my friends, how ignorant that statement was. It’s like they are saying that people of the Caucasian variety or white people are the only ones who can speak intelligently. I also get teased for not behaving like a B.E.T extra when I’m upset in public. It’s insane, like I just don’t understand.
I was in the car driving home with my friend raging about everything, he laughed and said “well just use your accents and try your luck back in your home country “.
My family and I, most of us come from the Caribbean and with that being said there are some glaring differences; in terms of culture, practices, behavior and everything. I thought on all of this and simply said, “A true trini, could tell the difference from a mile away. I have spent 24 years in America, and have become far to Americanized to fit in back home. There is nothing more upsetting than to know, no matter what, you will not be accepted”. I also told him,  our likes,  dislikes and taste shouldn’t be dictated by stereotypes or what we think is acceptable by the black community; lastly people shouldn’t be upset when I say I’m not African American, because I’m not and quite frankly neither are the ones labeled as such; who currently reside in America, they are just American. If you were born here and raised here your Fucking American. It’s rude to claim a culture you know nothing of.  It’s not giving up your identity it is claiming your home,  I don’t even understand the need for separation. I digress, being I guess societal “black and foreign ” isn’t easy,  but I’m just going to taken it a day at a time. This isn’t to offend people, who want to identify as African Americans, that is completely your prerogative.

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“Being Girly”

So I was told I’m tomboyish and that I am too old to be this way. So I decided I would try some make up and you know tank tops and goodies vs gamer shirts and goodies;  lol baby steps.  52 hours of makeup tutorials and 186$ spent on eyeshadow palettes, foundation, lipstick and mascara and here is the end result.

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Maybelline fit me foundation and translucent face powder, urban decay naked 2 pallet, smash box black cherry lipstick

It’s going to take some getting used to, being noticed and all. All and all I had fun,  and still thanking God that it came out so well. 15 minutes total to do 🙂

One of those nights

I normally go to sleep around 11pm…..on a good night, other nights however I find myself wide awake. So to pass the time, I either lay awake in the dark calm of my room, with my boyfriend tossing and turning beside me or do things. My favorite things to do in order clean, watch anime or mischief. Sadly tonight I am in neither mood so I am left with mischief. My mischief normally consists of me making chat accounts with suggestive pictures as the profile, to ensure a speedy response followed by the most distasteful of conversations.

I know that my boyfriend would disapprove, no matter how innocent my idea of play was and this fact alone made it more fun. The chats would be filled with promises of lewd acts, and empty promises; hours would pass by and eventually we’d say our goodbyes. Every encounter given a phony name, my last ditch effort to cover my tracks and keep my identity secret. These chats excited me in ways I have never felt before. I don’t know if it was the indecency of the conversation or the fact that it was forbidden that excited me more; maybe it was a little of both.

Most of the conversations started off with the men/women confessing their loneliness,and how long its been since they last sexual relations of any nature and quickly escalated into what could be described as extreme erotica, with a stranger and myself as the author. I spent a great deal of time on these chats, gathering regulars who eagerly and hungrily greeted me once my light turned green next to my username; indicating that I am online. I grew accustom to this and it became my routine.

Tonight I logged on as I had done many nights before, and one of my favorites had disappeared. This troubled me, why? I couldn’t rationally explain. Maybe I had gotten attached and was unaware? Maybe I had secretly wanted to carry out these acts with this stranger? or maybe I was simply reacting at all because deep down I am a child and I felt as though someone took away my favorite play thing. Who knows. I continued to search for my favorite toy, but to my dismay nothing. It was if it never existed.

Determined not to have this ruined my night I attempted to duplicate this sexually charged exchange with another. Sadly it wasn’t the same. I logged off, too upset and disappointed to say goodbye. I sat in my room this time with the lights on, frustrated beyond comprehension. Again my boyfriend tossed and turned, moaning fretfully and snoring gently every so often in his sleep. I turn to wordpress, my outlet. Even though I have no more to say on the matter, I am still not satisfied. This will have to do as it is now 3:19am, and I do have to work today. *sigh* it is indeed one of those nights.

Matters of the heart

Relationships start off strong, full of love and promise, and the possibilities; some stay this way while others fall stale and stagnant. The problems which once seemed so small become insurmountable mountains of doom, driving cracks in to the very foundation of your relationship; and those crack become rifts that engulf everything you once had into darkness. Now hate , resentment and pain fill you; love has no meaning to you and all you can see is your hurt, it consumes you. The intoxication of love has left you and is your coming down from a terrible high, your heart races and thoughts become irrational. You part ways, yet your thoughts return to that person, you call it hate; it hurts too much to call it love.

You think to yourself “if only they would change? things would be perfect” . Every second of every minute of every hour of every day of every week of every month of every year, you think of this love-able fool. You date other people, and despite the company you keep; every fiber of your being is calling to them. The one who shan’t be named. The separation took way more out of you than you care to admit. A bond once so deep words couldn’t describe, just gone. Your connection going back to childhood. When your relationship began, seeds of friendship over time grew and blossomed into beautiful flowers of love. Sadly all of this wasn’t enough to stop the outcome that unfolded. Parting ways, felt like someone had taken my body and ripped it in two, then my heart and finally my soul. Yes a part of you is gone and forever shall remain with them. Sadly the love you have for them is too great, and you are powerless to reclaim it.

So I wonder now, was it really for the best? could things not have been different? Again i sit here wondering aloud his time, why couldn’t you change? People say they love others flaws and all, to them I say… no shout LIAR!

There are some flaws too great for love to overcome. Thoughts plague my mind, if you loved me just why couldn’t you change for me. After all it hurt me more in the long run. I can’t ever tell you these things, simply professing my heart here is more than I care to bare; sadly I need to get these feelings out. I feel like I am going to explode. I know you wouldn’t understand and couldn’t understand, it was after all me who stopped fighting for us and what seemed my decision alone to part ways. You may no longer thing of me as I do you, you may find me cruel for my cold goodbye; had you known me the way you claimed you would know its the only thing I could do to keep myself from falling apart. You were the foundation and pillars to my life and without you everything is that much heavier. You aren’t a bad person, you just don’t know how to love and be with another. I wish I didn’t love you, but sadly I did and always will.

My friends and step-dad tell me in time it will all get better, I hope and pray to God they are right. Sometime I think you are my soul-mate, and our connection is tested. When I am my saddest you message me as if you felt my pain.

Yes I love you that much will remain true. I always will wonder, was my choice the right one, what if in my impatience I lost something good. Still 6+ years is a long time to be with someone and see no results.