I've been struggling with my identity for quite a while...Sometimes I'm disgusted at classifications and the negative effects they ultimately produce thanks to the final concoction :Stereotyping. Did I say stereotyping was the final concoction? I'm sorry, I meant racism.Yes,that should do it...
As a biracial kid growing up in urban *&^%^%& ,I had my share of stereotyping,even though I saw no reason for it,after all I was as black as anyone of them;that didn't stop the kids from making my ethnicity painfully obvious. Nevertheless it was *&^%^%&presumably the country with the largest population of black people in the world,as a result, I grew up as an African,or should I say-a *&^%^%&n.Strong willed,extremely emotional,cunning and with the ability to deal out threats and bluffs like my life depended on it. Maybe its just me, but all the friends I had growing up were able to do the same,in fact,for some it became a necessary skill to possess.I ignored all issues pertaining to my ethnicity and focused all my energy on growing up...and grow I did. Unfortunately, as highschool ended and my future loomed closer,like a huge impending storm on the horizon of my senses, I began to lose my feeling of security...the cockyness of my midteens,the familiarity with my self esteem was fading...maybe it was hormones...or maybe it was the thought of my future. It was proven without question that the latter was absolutely wrong,when my future pounced on me with the ferocity of a rampaging beast...
Like a quiet stroll through a serene jungle path...anticipation of the delights nature has to offer mingled with the obligatory fear of the unknown, overwhelmed my senses...while trying to focus on enjoying the stroll, I put danger behind me and alas,when it pounced on me, I was at its mercy....
Mercy,was indeed shown to me...but it was superficial...there was so much rot underneath it..rot which I still struggle to get rid of,washing myself in the waters of ignorance,pride and shameful grovelling...
My first days in New *&^*%^% were beautiful, it was like meeting a long lost family...ten years I'd waited,and now I was given the opportunity to spend time with them...it was literally the aforementioned jungle stroll...beautiful and serene..almost dreamlike. Infact too dreamlike. for a few months I wallowed around in an oblivious state of unawareness, like a foetus...sweet oblivion...When the beast pounced i was so deep in my dreamstate that its brutal attack went unnoticed for a while...When the full extents of my injury decided to manifest themselves,I was left questioning my very own sanity.
Like a rebirth I noticed eyes...those truthful windows to the soul, telling whole stories on their own...
Distrust,disgust,fear...sometimes even pity . It hit me real hard,the rasicm ...sometimes hurled like rocks at me,in words...sometimes shot at me like futuristic lasers from the eyes of a superior master race.It was not only brutal,this beast but cunning....it would leave me all torn and bleeding,waiting till I gathered strength to run or to fight,then it would pounce again,and again.This beast meant to consume its victims,but not for its sustenance,no. It ate simply to regurgitate a new person...a person who would rather stay at home quivering at imaginary dangers than jump up and head for that refreshing walk in the woods...A person who would forever be indebted to it...to be eaten and expelled at will...A person more often than not,having been ravaged by the beast , would get up feeling accomplished,as if victory depended on how many times one who was beaten down got up....
Maybe it was fate,maybe it was luck,maybe it was even resilience of some sort...But I have a feeling that it was my quest for knowledge that armed me with the machete that I wield now...the
parang that slashes at the beast with equal ferocity...the battle rages on ...unfortunately its a battle that cannot be won alone. Buts it is a strange one. Its like a huge fight club with thousands of little arenas,each containing a man and a beats locked in combat and millions of spectators...cheering on. One wonders how order is preserved...there must be some invisible cruel law that prohibits onlookers from participating in the fight...however,there are some rule breakers..once in a while an overzealous fan jumps from the stands down into the arena,and the odds change,for better or worse,for one man...
I stand in my little arena,overlooked by a motely crowd...a strange gathering of onlookers...their faces portraying the emotions that I somehow feel,fuel the beast,excitement,curiosity,pity,but the most common expression among all these spectators is ignorance...I glance up occasionally the sweat from my brow dripping into my glazed eyes isn't enough to block the truth: these people don't know what the fuck is going on.
The beast snarls,and once again,my life flashes before me...no,not a premonition of death,its the norm in the arena .I'm just glad that I've got a weapon at hand...this round anyway...
As a biracial kid growing up in urban *&^%^%& ,I had my share of stereotyping,even though I saw no reason for it,after all I was as black as anyone of them;that didn't stop the kids from making my ethnicity painfully obvious. Nevertheless it was *&^%^%&presumably the country with the largest population of black people in the world,as a result, I grew up as an African,or should I say-a *&^%^%&n.Strong willed,extremely emotional,cunning and with the ability to deal out threats and bluffs like my life depended on it. Maybe its just me, but all the friends I had growing up were able to do the same,in fact,for some it became a necessary skill to possess.I ignored all issues pertaining to my ethnicity and focused all my energy on growing up...and grow I did. Unfortunately, as highschool ended and my future loomed closer,like a huge impending storm on the horizon of my senses, I began to lose my feeling of security...the cockyness of my midteens,the familiarity with my self esteem was fading...maybe it was hormones...or maybe it was the thought of my future. It was proven without question that the latter was absolutely wrong,when my future pounced on me with the ferocity of a rampaging beast...
Like a quiet stroll through a serene jungle path...anticipation of the delights nature has to offer mingled with the obligatory fear of the unknown, overwhelmed my senses...while trying to focus on enjoying the stroll, I put danger behind me and alas,when it pounced on me, I was at its mercy....
Mercy,was indeed shown to me...but it was superficial...there was so much rot underneath it..rot which I still struggle to get rid of,washing myself in the waters of ignorance,pride and shameful grovelling...
My first days in New *&^*%^% were beautiful, it was like meeting a long lost family...ten years I'd waited,and now I was given the opportunity to spend time with them...it was literally the aforementioned jungle stroll...beautiful and serene..almost dreamlike. Infact too dreamlike. for a few months I wallowed around in an oblivious state of unawareness, like a foetus...sweet oblivion...When the beast pounced i was so deep in my dreamstate that its brutal attack went unnoticed for a while...When the full extents of my injury decided to manifest themselves,I was left questioning my very own sanity.
Like a rebirth I noticed eyes...those truthful windows to the soul, telling whole stories on their own...
Distrust,disgust,fear...sometimes even pity . It hit me real hard,the rasicm ...sometimes hurled like rocks at me,in words...sometimes shot at me like futuristic lasers from the eyes of a superior master race.It was not only brutal,this beast but cunning....it would leave me all torn and bleeding,waiting till I gathered strength to run or to fight,then it would pounce again,and again.This beast meant to consume its victims,but not for its sustenance,no. It ate simply to regurgitate a new person...a person who would rather stay at home quivering at imaginary dangers than jump up and head for that refreshing walk in the woods...A person who would forever be indebted to it...to be eaten and expelled at will...A person more often than not,having been ravaged by the beast , would get up feeling accomplished,as if victory depended on how many times one who was beaten down got up....
Maybe it was fate,maybe it was luck,maybe it was even resilience of some sort...But I have a feeling that it was my quest for knowledge that armed me with the machete that I wield now...the
parang that slashes at the beast with equal ferocity...the battle rages on ...unfortunately its a battle that cannot be won alone. Buts it is a strange one. Its like a huge fight club with thousands of little arenas,each containing a man and a beats locked in combat and millions of spectators...cheering on. One wonders how order is preserved...there must be some invisible cruel law that prohibits onlookers from participating in the fight...however,there are some rule breakers..once in a while an overzealous fan jumps from the stands down into the arena,and the odds change,for better or worse,for one man...
I stand in my little arena,overlooked by a motely crowd...a strange gathering of onlookers...their faces portraying the emotions that I somehow feel,fuel the beast,excitement,curiosity,pity,but the most common expression among all these spectators is ignorance...I glance up occasionally the sweat from my brow dripping into my glazed eyes isn't enough to block the truth: these people don't know what the fuck is going on.
The beast snarls,and once again,my life flashes before me...no,not a premonition of death,its the norm in the arena .I'm just glad that I've got a weapon at hand...this round anyway...
posted by MephisLee @ 5:46 PM
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