“What Makes Me Black” I’ve pondered the thought of what makes me black, and what makes others what they are. I spent a day evaluating my surroundings, and racking my brain. But I still have not come to the conclusion of what makes me black. Is it the box on applications that I check, is it my membership to predominately “Black” sorority, or is it how my hair kinks up when it is wet. Is it the way I am followed in a department store, or is it because of the vaulger names I have been called? Like nigger or tar baby. Is it because of the pigment of my skin or the dark color of my gums when I smile? Or maybe even the reflection I see in the mirror. Is it how others perceive me or is it how I perceive myself? One things for sure people of my own “ so called race call me white, but on the other hand people who associate themselves as white see me to be black as night. I once heard someone say you are whom you associate with; well if that were true I guess I would be a bunch ingredients blended together. Are these the characteristics that form my identity? I could go on for days, but are those the things that really make me black? All right enough of the games; I will tell you why I am black. Or could be I am really white?I guess now I need to reevaluate. What makes me white? I spent all of my time evaluating why I am black; leaving no time to evaluate why I am white. I have got it I am white because of the power advantage I still have over blacks in the year 2000. Or is it how I can walk into any store without a dime and walkout as if I had a million? It is easy to take what I need from an ignorant society who is always blaming blacks. Who would ever suspect the innocent little white girl definitely not the white salesclerk? Is it the way I am able to walk down any city street day or night and not accused of wrongdoing? Or is the way I am able to sit in my car after being pulled over ...
