Being called the non-black black girl, the Oreo, or just straight up white chick are names that I have been called by other African American women since middle school. It has always been made very clear to me by my African American peers that I am different. I had an African American girl friend tell me recently that I should have been born white; it didn’t make sense that I was black. When I responded “What does that mean?”, she replied “You know girl, you act too much like a white girl with the way you walk and talk and the things you do.” And at thirty-five years old I found myself dealing with the same black girls that I had dealt with in my earlier years. For some reason black women discard me as not being black because I don’t fit the stereotypes that plague black women. I find this level of thinking to be silly and destructive because I though you’re supposed to overcome the negative images that plague one’s ethnic group not perpetuate them.
I find myself wondering why my blackness is always being called into question because I don’t eat chitterling (nor do I know where to buy them or how to cook them) I prefer sushi and other cuisines and love to cook all different cuisines. I’m told that I’m not truly a black woman because I’m not angry, and I don’t roll my eyes when I see a black man with a white woman. I have on several occasions found myself in conversations with black women where I have to explain the reason why I don’t chime in when they are complaining about white people and referencing the standard stereotypes about white people is because my second husband is white and two of my five kids are bi-racial. I often find myself having to justify why my first husband was black and my second is white. I constantly have to explain that I haven’t given up on black men or hate them. I find that this translates to my writing as well. I love to write and find it hard to get my work noticed because my characters are not stereotypical African American characters. I create strong African American female characters not bitter and there doesn’t seem to be a place for my work or at least I haven’t found it. I wonder if I am the only black woman to have these or similar experiences. Why do I have to be a stereotype to be accepted by those who share my ethnicity? Is it possible to overcome these experiences and have real friendships with women of my own race without there being this awkward tension because they feel that I am acting too white? And why does it have to be “acting white” at all?
I am a white chic who appreciated you in our younger years and I still appreciate and respect you. The reasons have always been because you are a fantastic person. Others who don’t comprehend what you are about because of the color of your skin must possess a bit of jealousy and/or confusion about theirselves. One must not try to answer to others why they are the way they are. If you can sleep at night knowing you respect yourself and feel love from your closest family and friends, then continue letting others wondering how they can be as goof as you.