Ifemelu’s (main character from “Americanah”) insightful reflections prompted me to take things a little further. My personal experiences with race have made me a more racially aware human being–I try not to stereotype or generalize, I mostly make jokes as not to get too emotionally invested. I have friends from all racial backgrounds. It’s like my Pop always says, judge a person by their heart not skin color or was that Martin Luther King. Jr?

Mild Racial Disorder Syndrome

All Black People living in the U.S Are African Americans: There are my brown and black Latinos from all over: Boricuas, Morenas, Dominicanos, Colombianos, and Cubanos. My Nigerians, Haitians, South Africans, Jamaicans, and Brazilians; you get the idea. Black folk come from all over the world. To me, you seem quite uncultured if you lump us all together. Race, ethnicity, and nationality are all factors to consider when trying to classify someone’s origin.

Bi-racial babies are so cute: Yes, yes, the mixed raced folks are generally not bad to look at. But if you constantly emphasize that all bi-racial babies are the cutest kids in the world, then that’s a problem.

A family member recently showed a picture of our friend’s mixed raced babies of varying skin tones. This friend instantly gushed at the three lighter skinned children and absently overlooked the most handsome one, in my opinion, the dark-skinned child. The unconscious and sometimes conscious mindset that “light” is always more beautiful or handsome explains the prevalence of rampant colorism on so many levels.

You don’t act black. Like black, black: Uhhhh? Black, Black? Why, what do you mean? Is it because I speak well. Wait, is it because I’m educated? Like “white” music? Well, give us back our “black” music back then. We’ll take back Hendrix, Coltrane, Beyonce, shit give us back 2Pac! Do only “certain folks” like art house films? I love me a French Film. And don’t get me talking about my movie “12 Assassins,” I’ve seen it countless times. What you mean when you say I’m not “black” is that “I have a very narrow-minded view of what “black” is. I associate “black” with the very stereotypical images I get from TV and the movies.” It’s like my main lady Oprah recently said, “I think we need as many voices that we can have saying there’s more than one way to be black, it’s so needed.”

Medium Racial Disorder Syndrome

Touching a Black Person’s Hair: Let’s talk about touching a black person’s hair. Would you go up to a person of the same racial background, a stranger, let’s say and touch that person’s hair? No, no you would not! Therefore, it isn’t polite to touch someone’s dreads, kinky curly hair or even touch a person’s weave. Inappropriate. I tend to think though that those boundaries dissipate when you have a solid relationship with someone. But this is just my experience and view.

Don’t look/act surprised when we are accomplished:

That look of astonishment; the surprised face you can’t hide when a black person has done something of clout. For instance: being well traveled, multiple degrees, high paying positions/jobs. My siblings and I get this from time to time, especially my brother who’s well traveled and is currently pursuing his Ph.D. “Ohh my gosh, you haavvveee been to a lot of places. Wait you teach where? UGA, really!!! As their brain explodes mid-conversation, shakes head to reboot, regroup after you’ve just dispelled yet another myth.

You speak for an entire race:

I am not a representation of an entire race. Experiences differ greatly from person to person; even those that share the same racial background. Don’t ask the only black person or any other minority race in a classroom or any other setting to be the perspective of an entire race.

Acute Racial Disorder Syndrome

I have a love-hate relationship with the South. There’s a part of me that believes that I’d find more like minded people such as myself elsewhere: places like Toronto, New York, London, even Paris. The truth is I’ve come to fall under the spell of the South’s charming ways. For better or worst, Atlanta has come to be my home away from home but there are still some things I’ll never be able to get down with. Some of these examples are just as rampant elsewhere but it’s a special kind of failure to catch up with the times down here in the South.

That In Your Face Southern Pride:

God if I see one more southern flag on a pick up truck on my way to the grocery store. I live outside the city hence the prevalence of spirited southern pride. There’s nothing more off-putting to me but then again Kanye did say that he’s taking away the power of the ole’ southern flag. And Kanye is kinda like my pastor right now so…I’m kidding. But seriously though, the southern flag to me just reeks of ignorance.

Don’t you dare date my child!!!!!:

An ex’s mom actually cried after the first time I was introduced to her. She was polite enough and nice enough during my visit but when I went back home, I was informed by my girlfriend at the time that her mom was upset that she had brought home “a black lesbian.” A white one would have sufficed, any other kind for that matter but not a black one, [haha]. I laugh now because it’s a thing of the past but that shit cut me to my core when it initially happened to me. I was affirmed prior to my visit that my ex’s mom was “open-minded” that she was “liberal” ha, ha, ha; I laugh again. “Liberal” doesn’t mean anything—a person’s heart has no political loyalties. If hate is in someone’s heart it will manifest itself somehow; eventually the truth surfaces. I often find that “certain folk” will welcome you with open arms as a friend of the family but once that inter-racial dating stuff starts happening, then people tend to show their true colors.

Where did you get your boy? I ain’t shaking your hands– black man:

Both these experiences unfortunately happened in real life to my brother. I say in real life because this is something one would expect from a poorly grudged up scenario of say a Kathryn Stockett book. Sadly this happened for real. My brother was living in Montgomery, Alabama pursuing his undergraduate degree. At the time he was living with a very nice family who so happens to be white. The family’s eighty-five year old neighbor saw my brother one day and asked the man of the house “where did you get your boy.” Yes, yes boy. The second incident happened while my brother was visiting a college friend in Virginia. A family member of his friend refused to shake his hand all because he was black. Sad. Truly sad but we’re living in America and this “post-racial” society isn’t as post racial as they would have us believe.

Other examples of this: Shopping while black (Barneys New York anyone?) driving while black; the recent Trayvon Martin verdict. I could go on for days.

One day I’ll perfect this theory of Ifemelu’s—I’ll come up with a much more precise way of diagnosing the ailment but until then try avoiding these mistakes.

Further Reading: Musings on Chimamanda’s Adichie’s Americanah, Part 1 and Part 2.

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