visibly invisible

Who I am "underneath it all"

is easy to see - 

however,

my life consists of defying what others expect from me.

 

From the womb, I was presented as the most 

obedient

harmless

innocent

child you could ever imagine, 

because that's what it took for my immigrant parents to be accepted.

 

Every time I encounter

rap music 

stray basketballs on the ground

watermelon at a potluck

fried chicken on TV

I look in another direction, because that's what it takes for me to be respected.

 

At 15,

I found an article titled "How to Avoid Being the Angry Black Woman" on my mother's bedroom floor.

How could she not know there is no such thing?

 

Yet, I fall to the same trap.

Constantly attempting to convince others that I lack dozens of stereotypical qualities

gets so tiring.

 

I now know this is called "stereotype threat"

but who knows that in 7th grade?

I told a group of prodding white classmates I "wasn't sure" who I wanted to win the presidential election (lies) 

but "if I had to choose," it would be "McCain" (lies).

When they left me alone, allowing me to let out a sigh of relief,

I felt that something - or someone - had been betrayed.

 

There was a student at that school who was like me 

...we did not stick together. 

Up to this day, we undo each others' efforts.

I prove my affinity for white classical composers,

work to get straight As.

He invites others to note his stereotypical qualities,

laughs excessively with begetters of racial malaise.

 

When I see that it gets to be too much for him

turning from a group laughing at pictures of him eating fried chicken 

when I sense something within him that is not angry, not happy, 

but transparent like the loose skin on my grandmother's hand before she died,

something dull like the still dimming light of a lamp after it has already been unplugged from the wall,

I turn too.

 

If we were not just seen as black

loud

smart

or however else we portray ourselves as to get through the day,

it would be obvious

who we both are:

Two complex human beings, doing our best

as we perform two different roles on a stage.

 

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