I Didn’t Ask To Be Black

Certain things in life chose us. Yet we are treated by many as if we’re given an option. Constantly being judged and thrown in a box with a freakish label. As if I’m less than because I’m not the same as.

When you walk into a restaurant or your favorite pricey retail store, all eyes or on you. Feeling the glare of wonderment blazing off the back of your neck:

“Can they afford to shop here?”

“Do they know how much that cost”?

“I wonder if they know how much the meals are here”?

Truth be told, the prices are just as clear for them as they are for you.

Truth be told, their work ethic is just as phenomenal, if not more so than yours.

Yet time and time again, the affordability factor is based on the color of an individual’s skin and nothing more. Which is totally mindblowing and unquestionably disturbing.

Unfortunately, almost every black person has experienced some sort of racial profiling!

I can only speak for myself when I say that when I visit a higher-end retail store, I’m usually just finishing up brunch or dinner with friends or family in the city. I’m well dressed in heels, manicured toes, and hands. My makeup is on, and my hair is styled, and I’m feeling pretty good, and I still get scowls from the unknown.

By no means does this hurt my feelings or make me feel less than human. In fact, I’m not even remotely angered by the actions of a fool.

I, however, do feel deeply pained for the blatant idiocy of those that ignore the fact that I didn’t ask to black. But will continue to treat me as well as others as if I/we did.

I didn’t ask to be black, but I’m sure proud that I am!

the photo was taken from google

You could have chosen to read any blog, but you chose mine, and I’m honored!


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