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Who Used All the Black Crayon?

Guys, I am used to about 14 views each post. That's it (which is weird, because I post every blog link to my family's Facebook group and there are 40 of us in there... Thanks guys!). I was not expecting that many hits on one post, but I got it, and it has sparked a lot of conversation that I feel to be very productive. I have been so honored by the respect I have been given from those who’s opinions differ from mine, and the dialogue we have been able to have on the matter of race in today's society.

Some of the best conversations have come from the, "But why?" question. But why is that offensive? On Facebook I shared this Vox link, so I won't get into that, but I do want to take some time to talk about taking offense.

Life is a collection of experience. After one is written into our book, the next experience will be affected because of it.

In kindergarten, I had a true Corrina, Corrina experience in class, when someone asked, "Who used all the black crayon?" It was me. I needed to color my long black curly hair. And my sisters near perfect black ringlets, plus my brother's short black curls, and my dad's even shorter black curls. My mom didn't need the black crayon, her hair was brown. But, in that moment, I prayed that they wouldn't need the brown crayon (do you know how much crayon it takes to color 4 brown bodies and my mom's braid???). I don't think I really understood how I was different then, but I knew I was, and that was the day I decided I hated school.

When I was about 7 or 8 my sister and I were out playing on our swing set when the neighbor boys started throwing crabapples and rocks at us while yelling racial slurs. After that, our parents tried to keep us inside if they were playing outside.

In high school, my sister's class was reading Huckleberry Finn and the teacher was explaining that they wouldn't be saying the N word and one kid shouted out, "Well, can we say Rachel then?" The whole class started laughing and she ran out of the room to call our mom. Her absences began to build after that.

In my early 20's when I started wearing my hair natural, I was driving home from work on a back road. There was a car on the side of the road with the hazard lights on. I moved to the middle turn lane to pass them and got pulled over. I didn't get a ticket, and the officer didn't even take my license and registration when I mentioned where I worked.

And, in August of 2014, I held Christian as he grieved the loss of his friend, and I grieved the loss of my husband. Because losing someone you care about due to police brutality changes you.

These are just a few examples of how I have experienced race in the modern American society. Through my experiences, I now see things differently, and feel different emotions based off of what I see.

In his LDS conference talk, "And Nothing Shall Offend Them", David A. Bednar said,

"...it ultimately is impossible for another person to offend you or to offend me. Indeed, believing that another person offended us is fundamentally false. To be offended is a choice we make; it is not a condition inflicted or imposed upon us by someone or something else."

Yes, I teach Personal Power. I teach you get to choose how you will be affected and how you will react to a given situation. But I also teach, you are entitled to your emotions. If that hurt you, you own that. You feel the sadness. You feel the anger. You get that.

If someone passes me a knife, and it accidentally cuts my hand, I can choose to bandage it, I can choose to ignore it and not play with it. But that does not take away the pain. The wound, intentionally given or not, is real. The pain is real. I am entitled to the pain.

The same works for our emotions. We have gone through a whole life this far collecting experiences, some happy and some full of trauma. If something is done or something is said to invoke emotion and trigger that trauma, you are entitled to that emotion. The offense is real, the pain is real. The emotion is real, if it was intended or not. How you react to the offense is your choice.

So, what do we do? For me, I find it so important to own my emotions. If something happens to trigger my traumas, it is imperative for me, personally, not to bottle it up and ignore it like I had been taught to do as child. For me, I need to feel my hurt. I need to express my emotion.  I do that through writing, and I chose to share some of it. If I feel that it may help another person, I will probably share it in a public space. That is what works for me, but it doesn’t work for everyone. But, I also know that oppressing your emotions won’t work. I’ve tried.




I hope to one day be able to share a lot more of my story, of being so lost in myself throughout  childhood, how empowered I felt through the beginning of college, how I lost myself again as I transitioned into the adult world, and how I am now, begging to truly discover the beautiful person I am. I want to be able to share that story, because it was through other strong women who were so vulnerable and shared that I am here, and I am me.

Comments

Tonda said…
Wonderful writing Sara!
You are a beautiful strong woman, and I look up to you so much! ��
Cyri said…
I needed that tonight more than you know my dear! Thank you for being brave and courageous to share that. Love you!
Maggie said…
I ache reading your words. The story of your sister. It brings out the swear words and I will refrain from using them in your public space. I didn't know about Christian's friend. I have read so many stories of black boys, kids, teens, grown men, beaten and killed by a "peace officer" and it guts me every time. To hear of it hitting close to home is a different level. I am honored to hear your words and to hear your voice. Bearing witness to each other's lives ought to be our life's work. Keep writing. Keep speaking truth. And keep being such a wonderfully complex human. All my love.

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