photo by Dyamond
Color Undefined
First, it was my voice. One of the first comments I remember when I moved to Florida at 5 years old was “You talk funny.” I never really grew out of talking funny. And people never grew out of teasing me about it.
“Why do you talk that way? You’re not white.”
“Talk to me the real way.”
“You want to be one of them.”
Then it was the music I listened to. I was, and still am, a lover of pretty much all types of music. When I was younger I was really into a lot of heavy Rock music –you know teenage angst and all- but I could only listen to it within the confines of my room. And if my mom heard any of it I would hear “Turn that shit down!” but if I’m listening to Usher? No words.
I had black friends, and I had white friends, and I learned to adapt to both groups so I could fit in. I would change the way I spoke and behaved for each group I was around, just so I could be accepted. But a group of girls caught me and told me I was being fake. It’s true I was, but I couldn’t win just being myself.
The teasing, the confusion about who I was and how to behave didn’t only happen when I was a little girl. Unfortunately people still think stereotypes are okay. Whenever I’m around certain family members, I am their comedy act for the evening just to hear me speak. It’s funny to listen to my music... to see me act white.
My white friends think it’s cool to make racist jokes. And any time I don’t pronounce a word clearly- any time I speak “ghetto” it’s turned into a joke. Any music I listen to that may fit a stupid stereotype is laughed at. Any time I’m not acting white enough apparently it’s free game to grin and poke at me.
It’s still such a struggle just to be myself.
I remember my mom telling me that I was ashamed to be black. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
I am a proud African American woman. To be African American does not mean I must speak slang all the time. It does not mean I have to listen to rap and R&B. It does not mean I can only date black men, or have black friends. I am no less African American because I don’t fit in some box that wasn’t meant for any of us to be placed in.
I am African American because I was born to a beautiful African American woman, and an Amazing African American man, with spectacular African American family members.
Yes, I mostly listen to sacred chants in Sanskrit, the spice girls, and daft punk. No, I don’t eat watermelon all the time. And no, it’s not okay to make that joke. I do sort of dress weird, and for the most part I pronounce all my words clearly, and properly. Not because I want to be white, but because that’s how the word is pronounced. I didn’t marry a white guy because I hate black people or even hate black guys. I married my husband because he treats me like I’m the most important thing on this planet, and showers me with love and affection not just to me, but also to so many people on a daily basis.
If there’s anyone else out there like me; the person who has been labeled the black sheep, the oddball- the one that has trouble fitting in, please know you’re not alone. And please stay true to yourself. We are not just the color of our skin. We have our own uniqueness that makes us beautiful and that’s what the world needs to see, not some stupid stereotype. You’re not a shameful representation of your race- you’re an amazing representation of what we can evolve to be. Of all that we can become.
And to those who want to shame those who don’t fit your list of requirements to be white, black, Hispanic, Asian; please stop. We are not here for your comedic relief. We are not here to make you feel better because you are too afraid to open up. Know that there’s a bigger world beyond the imaginary box you created. A world that is accepting of you just the way you are.
This is still a rough journey for me, but I am determined to handle it being myself. I no longer tolerate harmful racist jokes. I want to educate and bring awareness, rather than fake a laugh, and swallow the hurt in my heart.
There are some things we may do that are stereotypical and that’s okay! And there may be so much that we do that is not stereotypical and that’s okay too. The beauty of being human is that we can be whoever the hell we want to be as long as we feel good in our hearts. The world is made of so many gorgeous colors with so many different shades. I want all of them to shine proudly, and as bright as they possibly can.
First, it was my voice. One of the first comments I remember when I moved to Florida at 5 years old was “You talk funny.” I never really grew out of talking funny. And people never grew out of teasing me about it.
“Why do you talk that way? You’re not white.”
“Talk to me the real way.”
“You want to be one of them.”
Then it was the music I listened to. I was, and still am, a lover of pretty much all types of music. When I was younger I was really into a lot of heavy Rock music –you know teenage angst and all- but I could only listen to it within the confines of my room. And if my mom heard any of it I would hear “Turn that shit down!” but if I’m listening to Usher? No words.
I had black friends, and I had white friends, and I learned to adapt to both groups so I could fit in. I would change the way I spoke and behaved for each group I was around, just so I could be accepted. But a group of girls caught me and told me I was being fake. It’s true I was, but I couldn’t win just being myself.
The teasing, the confusion about who I was and how to behave didn’t only happen when I was a little girl. Unfortunately people still think stereotypes are okay. Whenever I’m around certain family members, I am their comedy act for the evening just to hear me speak. It’s funny to listen to my music... to see me act white.
My white friends think it’s cool to make racist jokes. And any time I don’t pronounce a word clearly- any time I speak “ghetto” it’s turned into a joke. Any music I listen to that may fit a stupid stereotype is laughed at. Any time I’m not acting white enough apparently it’s free game to grin and poke at me.
It’s still such a struggle just to be myself.
I remember my mom telling me that I was ashamed to be black. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
I am a proud African American woman. To be African American does not mean I must speak slang all the time. It does not mean I have to listen to rap and R&B. It does not mean I can only date black men, or have black friends. I am no less African American because I don’t fit in some box that wasn’t meant for any of us to be placed in.
I am African American because I was born to a beautiful African American woman, and an Amazing African American man, with spectacular African American family members.
Yes, I mostly listen to sacred chants in Sanskrit, the spice girls, and daft punk. No, I don’t eat watermelon all the time. And no, it’s not okay to make that joke. I do sort of dress weird, and for the most part I pronounce all my words clearly, and properly. Not because I want to be white, but because that’s how the word is pronounced. I didn’t marry a white guy because I hate black people or even hate black guys. I married my husband because he treats me like I’m the most important thing on this planet, and showers me with love and affection not just to me, but also to so many people on a daily basis.
If there’s anyone else out there like me; the person who has been labeled the black sheep, the oddball- the one that has trouble fitting in, please know you’re not alone. And please stay true to yourself. We are not just the color of our skin. We have our own uniqueness that makes us beautiful and that’s what the world needs to see, not some stupid stereotype. You’re not a shameful representation of your race- you’re an amazing representation of what we can evolve to be. Of all that we can become.
And to those who want to shame those who don’t fit your list of requirements to be white, black, Hispanic, Asian; please stop. We are not here for your comedic relief. We are not here to make you feel better because you are too afraid to open up. Know that there’s a bigger world beyond the imaginary box you created. A world that is accepting of you just the way you are.
This is still a rough journey for me, but I am determined to handle it being myself. I no longer tolerate harmful racist jokes. I want to educate and bring awareness, rather than fake a laugh, and swallow the hurt in my heart.
There are some things we may do that are stereotypical and that’s okay! And there may be so much that we do that is not stereotypical and that’s okay too. The beauty of being human is that we can be whoever the hell we want to be as long as we feel good in our hearts. The world is made of so many gorgeous colors with so many different shades. I want all of them to shine proudly, and as bright as they possibly can.
 | Dyamond Robinson-Patlyek is a maker of malas, a yogini, and a fierce lover of sweets. She spends her time taking barefoot walks, singing, and finding ways to make this world a little brighter. One of her biggest goals is to remind us how good it feels to love, to share love, to embody love; and to encourage you to feel and truly understand that you are no less than amazing. You can read more of her stories at dyamondintherough.com |
9 comments:
Dyamond, I really enjoyed your article. My best friend of 20 plus years is black, and I don't know how many times we've had this discussion,too. So many people have tried to pigeon-hole, demean, and make fun of her for "acting white." Being Cherokee and Caucasian myself, I've experienced some of this ("What are you, Chinese?") but not on the level she has. And as the mother of two beautiful biracial girls, I have been keenly aware of the challenges faced by anyone who breaks the mold, so to speak. I don't know know why people are so threatened by anyone they can't stereotype; maybe they're not comfortable in their own skin. But you clearly are. So keep on being beautiful, brave you. Thanks for sharing.
What a beautiful article!!!
Beautiful, well said. I'm white, with an ethnic background, and when I was growing up the phrase was "don't act big." Different phrasing, same meaning. Don't try to be something you're not.
I really loved this, Dyamond. <3 Thank you for sharing your story. (And thank you Amanda for this great new series!!! I knew when you announced it that it would be big and amazing.)
One of our biggest criteria for where we moved this last year was that it be diverse - actually diverse, not just token integrated. My kid is gonna be a white man (albeit a neurodiverse white man) when he grows up, and I wanted him to have the gift I had from my childhood living in so many diverse and different places - the ability to move between cultural worlds. I think that's very important, because we "shapeshifters" are the people who are disturbing and breaking the stereotypes. Of course, since my skin is as pale as cantalope, I don't have the same backlash you've had, that's just a fact of life in this country, but I am doing what I can. I think we all need to. And that's how I'm raising my kid, that he shall know how to bridge the gaps between people and do his part, too.
I'm sorry your mama didn't get it back then (I hope she does now). But I'm glad, so very glad, you did.
I am the different child in my family, the one that went away to follow my star. I married a wonder man and he is different also. There is someone out there that is as 'strange' as you. I have never felt alone anymore.
Beautiful Dyamond!! Such powerful and moving OWNERSHIP of the heart, and the underlying always-prevelent equality of the soul of all. You are pure brilliance, just like your name. xo
Thank you for this, Dyamond. What a wonderful reminder to embrace our own authenticity. I am of mixed heritage, and grew up in suburban/rural Minnesota with my white, Irish family while my Hispanic roots resided in Arizona - and I did not get to know that side of myself at all until I reconnected with my dad when I was 19. I too experienced the sense of not fitting in, never exactly fitting the "box" of either my white or my Hispanic families. Thankfully, I also grew up with a lot of love, and a lot of supportive guidance - so now that I'm grown I can embrace ALL of me, and appreciate what a wonderful opportunity it actually is to have such a rich and diverse family. xo
Hi Dyamond,
Wonderful post - simple and heartfelt with such a profound message. I love this paragraph; 'The beauty of being human is that we can be whoever the hell we want to be as long as we feel good in our hearts. The world is made of so many gorgeous colors with so many different shades. I want all of them to shine proudly, and as bright as they possibly can.' I lost a testicle when I was 6 and spent most of my childhood being tormented and for the longest time believed that I was the 'odd man out' but today I am a strong loving man because I chose love over fear; to be okay in my own skin. Lets all shine together.Love Nige
Fantastic perspective! Love this article!
I am Cuban and fairly light skinned. I can't tell you the number of people who have told me I could "pass for white" or that if were not for my name, they wouldn't know I was Mexican-because apparently only Mexican people have "hispanic" names? Or, when I answer the phone, I get, "O good you do speak English! You never know with a name like yours!" It's as though the entire race question is daily beyond addressed from a "white-centric" point of view where are you American really means Are you white??
Anyway, just wanted to say how much your article struck a chord!
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