An Emotional Rant on Truth

In class, we have discussed some of the negative stigmas and ideas that have wrongly and unfairly characterized people of color. This is an issue that I have grown to be passionate about the more I’ve witnessed this theme that seems to overarch our society, thus Rhodes College. It was not until recently that I found these ideas to be much of an issue to try to critically analyze. There is a single instance that perplexed and then infuriated me: I was having a conversation with a friend about her descent, and she let a group of us know that she came from a white, Louisianan mother and father from Egypt. Needless to say, My interest was piqued, and in that moment I felt this indescribable, abstract connection to her because she seemed so proud to say that she was half Egyptian. She told me all about how her father makes an effort to visit Egypt often. Based on what she was telling me, I asked her, “Does your family stick to any African traditi-, “she interjected, “wait. I’m not African.” This threw me through the tightest and most uncomfortable loop. She admitted she knew that Egypt was an African country, but she didn’t consider herself an African. I finally broke down and asked her if she was ashamed of the African label. Also needless to say, I did not get a straight answer to that question.

            I can understand that this may not have been the most crucial occurrence but, I cannot ignore the gaping hole of the delusion (this all in love) that causes her to deliberately reject her African descent. Consequently, I can only attribute her indignity to the internalized criticism of people of color in general, not just those of America. The color of my skin holds so much weight. The issue is greater than white privilege, overt racism, or institutionalized discrimination. I believe that now the real underlying matter is untruth. Frankly, I have lost patience with, what I believe is now, conscious disregard for the truth. This is the truth: the only thing that separates me from my white counterparts may be our diverging lifestyles, ideas, and internal and physical characteristics- which also sets me apart from my African-American, Indian, Mexican, or Asian neighbor. When America or humanity makes itself available to the truth, an apparent change will take place. The barrier that we have to break, however, is that we have to not be afraid of our comfortable surfaces falling through. The more surfaces we break and fall through, the closer to truth we get. This is not a scholarly writing, but in that regard, I hope that my sincerity is taken to heart.