Whether or not we want to accept it, prejudice exists in every family. Whether it is skinny against fat, light against dark, tall against short; biased behavior exists, and it trickles down to the rest of the world.
Take for instance my family. They consider themselves white Jamaicans, and at times will look down on me because my Mexican and Indian blood from my biological father gave me more of a tanned complexion.
Therefore, every activity I may do is cleverly watched for “blackness” since we are living in America. For instance, if I yell, when I am upset, it is misconstrued as being n***ish. If I don’t give until it hurts, then I am not family oriented enough and they will try to label me too Amercanized.
The truth of the matter is, my nerves are at times delicate so when folks try to endanger me or take advantages of me my voice will go up a few octaves. It does not mean I am an around the way girl ready to kick arse at a moment’s notice, or that I enjoy carrying on like a virago.
While they all support one another and leave me twisting in the wind, I have found that there are times when it is necessary to stand up for myself. There are instances when I can emote quietly if people are compassionate and caring. However, if they are not, then, yes, I will get a bit gnarly if I have to.
I do not enjoy taking a stern stance many times, but just because of my tanned complexion people test me. Since they do not know my family history, they categorize me as they see fit. Many will test me on purpose. The sole reasons behind their difficult behavior is to prove I am just another minority trying to fake the funk.
For many years, I believed the incorrect assessment of my family when it came to my stressed behavior patterns. But when I started matriculating around folks outside of my family structure, who were mostly caucasian I realized it was they (my family) who were too ethnic.
But here is the thing, they believe when they participate in purely “black” behavior it is okay because they are light-skinned so it covers up their hypocritical stance.
Oddly enough when I am around my caucasian friends they often remark they cannot believe I am related to them because what my family perceives as being too black is seen by others as endearing.
When my associates compare my ideology with their’s it is like cheese to chalk because fundamentally I am more Caucasian in my ways than they would like to think and that is because they are judging by ridiculous Jamaican standards.
Yes, I may love loud music and get a bit loud when distressed, but the truth is, those behavior patterns I learned from them. So, I believe they are being disingenuous when they revolt that I should be stricken from the family for being a person in emotional agony and discomfort.
Perhaps if they weren’t so caught up in ethnicity and color differences and paid more attention to what was really going on with me I would never have developed the need to emote in a high-strung or unacceptable manner when upset.
It seems to me that anyone who would even suggest that proposition has a heart blacker than soot.
There were members of my “dear” family who waged a vigilant campaign to have me ousted from their sphere because they did not want me to contaminate their children with any notions of “blackness”.
Fighting For My Life Memoir 