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.
"...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.
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