Being  an African American in the country.

Not sure if my readers understood that I am “Black” or African American. Living here has taught no matter where you live someone is going to hate you because you are different. All my life I have seen this, and it’s quite disturbing. I fear for my daughters sake because my child is light skinned and as soon as I go next to her and take her some place she is already being judged at the age of three.  I got my hair done yesterday and I did something different, my hair is in twist by the ends are purple. I personally love the color purple and I was thinking of my own happiness when I got it done. From the time my mother in law picked me up to me talking to others I started to feel like I did something wrong. Mind you , before I came in contact with another human outside of the hairdresser’s house I was perfectly happy with my hair. In this moment I wish I lived in the city where people could careless or even say how cool it is but here it is a different story.  I wish I didn’t get my hair done  now. Every time I make a decision that makes me happy I can here my mom calling me stupid and that I have no class. Sigh, that’s it for today. Hopefully, I can post something happy the next time around. 


2 thoughts on “Being  an African American in the country.

  1. Different is, well, different, and some people have a hard time with different.

    First, mom-in-law should chill about the hair. Maybe she’s jealous for not having the confidence to try something like that for herself.

    Second, people with dark skin are not a particularly common sight in Vermont and, for some, it takes some getting used to. Probably takes more time than most of us would like, but many people are more accepting than it first appears. They’re just not sure how to react to someone so different from themselves. Until they get to know you, that is.

    Someone in our village once said, “If you want to get naked, paint yourself blue, and walk down the middle of Main Street, go right ahead. Just don’t get blue paint on anybody.” I should point out that I was not naked or painted blue at the time but the point is that, sooner or later, people who are different will find they are met with at least a smile or, at worst, an indifferent shrug as the relationship becomes more personal rather than based on assumptions.

    Morons are everywhere but, in a place with such a small population, they stand out more. Maybe not as much as a dark-skinned woman with purple hair, but I’m an old, hairy white guy so what do I know?

    Be you.


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