Living in a White World and the Struggle to Come Black

      My unique experience through these social engagements lead me to believe and feel that education, combined with relentless ambition and unparalleled communication skills, are the three most important elements for blacks to even the playing field with whites.  Among whites, it was not my skin color that bothered me but the stigma attached to being black, which I believed was partially self-inflected among black people themselves and magnified by what I saw on television, read in the papers, or witnessed in public.  I loved me, and wanted nothing more than to be a decent, respectable person, but was skeptical of my own race, which at the end of the day would always leave me in a state of quandary.    

My feeling of quandary led to contempt and took a huge toll by further dampening my relationship with blacks, especially black women.  Except at work, I had absolutely no use for them and fell completely into believing the stereotype that they were materialistic and money-hungry.  I blamed black women for most of the black male’s problems and bought into the concept that white women are more supportive and loving than black women because of their genuineness and outlook on life.  I would not speak or acknowledge a black woman’s presence unless they were work colleagues and I had a working relationship with them.  However, in reality, I had little experience with relating to black women, or their side of the story, but in my case, perception was truth and truth was perception. 

After months of living in my new world, I had very little contact with blacks except at work, (even that was from a distance) and the soldier to whom I sublet my apartment.  We may have talked once every month as I called to ensure all was okay and the rent paid.  As my world and surroundings grew whiter, it seemed that so did I, or at least the perception of whiteness that all blacks carry around ingrained in their minds, regardless of what some may say to deny it. 

My attitude changed, my thought patterns changed, even the way I dressed—all changed.  I discovered most of these white people were very happy and relaxed in their environment, while I considered blacks to be apprehensive at best in their own.  In my newfound “whiteness” I began to feel good about myself and fall in love with this feeling of inclusiveness and acceptance among white people, but it did come at a heavy price.  Somehow, I grew to despise black people and began to notice—and more importantly, always take notice—of all negative things, perceived or otherwise, they did to hurt themselves personally and the black race as a whole. 

Being away from other blacks made me see things differently in general and gave me tremendous insight that I had never had before about the race.  Unfortunately, little of it was good.  Even though I myself was black, I considered black people to be an enemy.  When I read the newspaper, if a crime was committed, I automatically looked for a black person to be associated with the crime; however, if it was a white person associated with the crime, I paid it little regard—or viewed it as an “individual,” not a race, that had gone astray.  About white people, I also thought, and believed this to be true, that they do not disfavor blacks solely because we are black; they disfavor how we live—and most of all—how we treat one another.  The pretenses based solely on “race” that blacks use to defend themselves against whites I found to be simply not true in most cases.  I didn’t see this before, to the point I do now, while living in whiteness.

The further I moved to the right away from blacks, the more I believed the stereotypes myself.  I knew something terribly wrong was happening to me but could do little about it.  In the process, I not only distanced myself from other blacks but even felt uncomfortable around them, even in a work environment.  I concluded I should suppress my feelings, and went about it as my little secret not to be shared with anyone, not even Kathryn.

I began to ask myself, What about character over color, a doctrine that I lived by all my life.  My own sense of right was overridden by profound feelings of negativity toward blacks, but I didn’t understand why because they had done nothing to me personally to cause such feelings.  However, it was the negative media coverage, and the negative persona blacks displayed openly of their own accord, coupled with my acceptance in an all-white community that gave me a true sense of belonging and an idea of who I didn’t wa