Growing up in Louisiana, I was raised in a society that sees me, a young black man, as inferior.
And while I was lucky to avoid overt racial antagonism, there were always instances that reminded me of my skin color.
After about 25 minutes of waiting, and still not being called, I asked a member of the staff how long I would need to wait.
She looked at me, then back at her list, and said in Japanese: “You’re in the wrong room.” So, I get my things and walk into the ”taxi driver” room.
I don’t worry about negative interactions with the police, ever. ” “I thought all Japanese people are good at karate.” “No…
All of the guys in the room were tall and white, many of them speaking French.
So I enjoyed eavesdropping in a language I no longer use while in Japan.
And while it’s not completely inaccurate—my family does have Native American blood—I always have to explain that we have a wide range of colors among black people and darkness does not equate to “blackness.” Nor does the place we were raised.
Black people are not homogeneous and I do not serve as a representative for all of us.