“Exotic”
Back again.
As I type these words, I wonder how many people will even read this?
Oh well, I do this more for my sanity than anything else. It seems the more I write, the better I feel.
It’s the only way I can keep calm through the heavy rain and thunder.
I know I look different, but then again…everyone does. I’m tired of having to be questioned constantly by people about my ethnicity. This is getting annoying.
And that’s not even the biggest problem. It’s the way they ask.
“What are you?” “Where are you REALLY from?”
I should start responding by saying,”I’m from the long lost planet of Snickers in the galaxy of Cinque de pizza. What are you?”
I was born and raised in the U.S., but my family is from Eritrea. I understand when people are curious, but i’m really not that different from the typically American kid.
Sure, I was raised learning a different language and growing up with cultural traditions that some people didn’t grow up with. But who cares? I love to go on roller coasters, watch the latest Fast and Furious movie, bake cupcakes, jam out to some hip hop, and kick back and chill with my friends.
Do you know how uncomfortable it is to be stared down at by a group of people trying to figure out your ethnicity OR to go to a restuarant where the employees feel the need to ask if you’re from the U.S.? Or have people assume that you aren’t American and see their shocked reaction when they realized that you were born and raised in the U.S.?
Should I start going around asking white Americans where they are REALLY from? Or should I stare at them for a very lengthy time and make them feel uncomfortable? I suppose I should also ask where their ancestors come from and have them name the village or province their parents are from?
I’m tired of being seen as some exotic being from Africa. I’m not walking around decked out with gold jewelry and cultural wardrobe.
I see how they look at me.
Eyes that scream “other.”
I’m proud of where my family comes from and I wouldn’t want to be raised any different.
If only people could see that i’m just merely a human being.
I cry when I’m sad just like you do. I have blood running through my veins just like you. I dream and love just like you. I breathe and watch this world go by just like you. I hope for better days just like you.
I’m no different.
Before you brand me or label me. Try to get to know me first.
You’re not going to get a golden ticket because you figured out my ethnicity.
So, please stop.
We are one human race regardless of our birthplace
