“Unapologetically Black”

If someone tried to make you feel uncomfortable in your own skin, would you stand silent or stand up?

Dear Token Black Girl,

Don’t apologize. Don’t feel guilty. Regret nothing. This letter is not for them, it is for you. This letter is not meant to shame you, it is meant to inspire her. You didn’t know what it meant to be the only brown face in a room full of white ones. You didn’t know what it meant to be the only Black girl in the honors class. You didn’t know what it meant to be the only Black woman in the board room. What you didn’t know isn’t what this letter is about. This letter is about how you got here.

You grew up in a small New York suburb an hour outside of the city. Do you think your life would have been different if you remained in the city? Your best friend at the age of 5 was white. The neighbors on the left side of your house were white, and so were the ones on the right. But they would sometimes babysit you, so you had no reason to ask “why?” There were only 2 Black girls, including you, in your elementary school class. Everyone else around you were white. You loved them. You wanted to be them. You saw their beauty but you didn’t see your own. By the time you moved away at age 11, you wanted your hair to be “straight just like theirs.” When you spoke you were told you sounded like a white girl. And when they saw a glimpse of your personality you were called an Oreo. But it’s okay, because you still made it here.

Your crew in high school was predominantly Black. But your honor classes weren’t. Your teachers weren’t. Your books weren’t. Your culture’s history was only given one month out of the year. And it wasn’t the full and true history. You lived in a city where 12% of the population was Black. The “person in charge” was not likely to be a member of your race. But you worked hard to eventually become a person in charge. Isn’t that what you were expected to do? To be better than “them.” To be one of the “good ones.” To be bearable to be around. To not grow angry. To silence your blackness. To be polite. To fit in. To make your white surroundings feel comfortable around you. You had no reason to question “why?” Because that’s all you knew.

Or that’s what you thought. But now you are here! You are finally asking “why?” Why is the teacher always asking your perspective when you’re reading about slavery? Why are you expected to be the voice for the entire Black community? Why do you have to try harder than your white classmates, coworkers, and associates? Why are you the only Black nurse? Why are you the only Black person in the company’s commercials? Why are they dying to have you in the university’s brochure photo? Why are you the only Black person in your spin class? Why are you the only Black person in your CrossFit class? Why do you have to push yourself harder, not to achieve your fitness goals, but to make sure they’re not calling you a “lazy black girl?” Why are you the only Black collegiate coach out of 33 coaches? Why do you have to defend Black culture? Why do you have to combat the stereotypes? Why are you expected to handle things in a certain way? Why don’t you feel as if you belong? Why do they shut you out when you speak up? Why are you only appreciated when you aren’t opinionated and outspoken? Why are they so small-minded? Why are you the only Black person in the room?…

You finally made it here. You realized that your experiences differed from other Black people’s. But that’s okay. You have experienced a form of privilege that not everyone experiences. But that’s okay. You scored 12 out of 26 on the white privilege test. But that’s okay. You have privilege. You have class privilege. You have sexuality privilege. You have ability privilege. Don’t feel guilty, feel motivated. Motivated to use your privilege to speak your mind. Motivated to stand up for others. Motivated to share your opinion. Motivated to shake things up and make changes. Motivated to lead. Motivated to be unapologetically Black.

You finally made it here. You are now consciously aware of the racial makeup of your surroundings. You notice when you’re the only Black person in a space. You are asking the questions and attending meetings to try to make sure that never happens again. You know when your Black voice needs to be heard. You notice when your corporation doesn’t have a diversity and inclusion department. You are making the plans to start one. You know being the only Black person in the room is not okay. And through all of this, you don’t apologize, you don’t feel guilty, you regret nothing, but most of all you don’t stand silent!

I am so glad you made it here. Here is where you can rock your natural, kinky hair with confidence. Here is where you can speak in whatever way you choose regardless if they think it is “proper” or “correct.” Here is where the issue is not whether there is “access” to certain opportunities, but it is whether there is equity. Here is where you can be the pioneer for your other Black brothers and sisters who are on the way. I cannot wait to see how much better off this world becomes because you are here. Please never leave. You will run into naysayers. You will encounter racists and bigots. You will be told that you “can’t” when you know darn well you can. Every day won’t be easy, but every day will be worth it. No matter what happens, you have to promise that you won’t ever leave here. You have evolved. You have become. And you are awesome!

Love always, Your Most Unapologetically Black Self

“And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.” — Romans 12:2 NKJV

Moni Jay, Off the Record