It seemed like any
ordinary day in my middle school experience. I had taken the two-hour bus ride
from home, with my sights set on finishing my seven-hour shift and returning
back to my PlayStation. Little did that young twelve-year-old know, that the
perception through which he viewed society and himself would on that day change
forever. Up to that particular day in my life, I innocently viewed my world as
a place where other’s perception of me was solely based on my character. I had
heard of America’s dark past, but I naively believed that we had all overcome
the ludicrous sentiments that were prevalent in the time of my grandparents and
earlier generations. It was not until that morning period in sixth-grade
language arts that I realized my appearance was subject to being associated
with cruel and demeaning stereotypes.
My teacher was introducing the class to a new research
assignment. It was a paper in which we were to study the neurological effects
of any topic of choice. The example provided, which the teacher read aloud, was
on a street drug known as “crack”. In one of the sentences of the example, the
term “crack baby” was used. I then found out that one of my classmates said my
name to a group of kids when that term was read by the teacher. As one of two
Black students in the class, it was apparent that this remark was made about my
race. Though long ago, I can still recall the painful sensation that took place
when I heard those words. I felt isolated from the rest of my classmates,
consumed by a combination of anger and sadness. This event marked a dramatic
shift in my mindset.
From that day on, I never truly felt accepted into
American society. It showed me that no matter how intelligent, successful, or
well-mannered I thought myself to be, I could still encounter people that
sought to confine my existence within their lines of distasteful preconceived generalizations.
I was moved to discover how such generalizations could be made on something as
trivial as skin color. I began to read books that elevated my consciousness of
the Black American experience. It was comforting to see how others have
encountered similar experiences to the one I had on that day in sixth grade. I
became more aware of the atrocities that have affected Black Americans for
centuries and I even viewed myself in a different light. With my life I was
working to prove a more positive perception of Black Americans.
Though spawned from a negative experience, I consider my
altered state of perception to have had a desirable impact. It motivated me to
discover more about my identity as a Black American. It taught me that
America’s dark history still seeps through the cracks into our current society.
This altered state of perception was vital for my growth towards viewing the society
in which I live through a more enlightened lens.
