Dear Little Black Girl,

It took me awhile to sit here and write this post. I do my best thinking at night. I’ve been through sooooooooo many things in my life for me to only be 20. But I’m appreciative of the mistakes, trials, and tribulations that come with being a young black female. See, I grew up in a middle class home. We were comfortable. We had money in the bank, and the bills were paid. Now, don’t you go judging me. I’m not all high and mighty. I’ve been through “the struggle”. There have been times that the lights or water were off but that never lasted long. I had a family to support me no matter what. You would think that my life would be easy with bumps and bruises here and there. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. See my mom always told me “Jazmin, no matter what you do, how you do it, or when you do it. You’re going to have to do it twice as well, and work twice as hard.” I never knew what she meant. I let her words float to the back of my head.

As a young woman today. I now know what she meant.

Do me a favor, before you continue reading this post, look down at your arms or legs or whatever limbs you have. What do you see? Do you see two arms? Do you see two hands with 5 fingers on each? If not dial 911! Haha. Do you see two legs and two feet with 5 toes on each? Okay. There’s one thing that differs you from the next person. Its your skin. Not just your skin. It’s the pigment of your skin. Do me this one last favor, look down and tell me the color of your skin? What’s your race? Heritage? Background? Ethnicity?

 

You see I’m a product of African American descent. No, I am not black. I am brown. Smooth and creamy mahogany brown. I have the slight- deep dark rose cheeks with a gold undertone. I have silky jet black hair that will mesmerize you ever time I turn my head. My dark brown eyes will melt your heart. My lips do wonders while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

 

But.. None of that matters. Why? You know why! Don’t act brand new!! I’m black can’t you see. No matter how hard I work, no matter what I do I’ll always be this way. My mind may very well be intelligent but that wont change my skin. I don’t have a problem being African American. I honestly don’t. It’s the working twice as hard as the next person just to get half way there. All of my life I’ve had to work twice as hard; in the classrooms, jobs, internships, leadership positions, etc. The list can go on and on for days but I wont keep you here that long.

I’m now coming to terms that I am who I am and there’s not a thing I can do about it. I do get tired. I do. But I still fight. I still work. I’m still me. When a job is passed to another person of lesser quality because of my color. I don’t get upset. I try again. And I try even harder the next time. I polish and finesse my skill set and give it another go. This is what you should do. So take notes here (little black girl).

It doesn’t bother me that racism is still very well alive in today’s society. Nor should it bother you.

 

 

I am battered and offended when I am done wrong by another person of color. It’s not the opposing race that will break your heart. Its the people that share the same background as you. Can you believe it? Your own people hurting you. Brothers, Sisters, Cousins, Nephews, Friends. I am you. You are me. We.

How can a people that have been through a tremendous amount of suffering still find it in themselves to condemn their own people? This question is still unanswered.

 

 

And this is what hurts me the most.