George
“To recount my experience of being Black in America means to travel to spaces of deep hurt, pain, frustration. It means to travel to internalized hatred of my identity and equally great pride, love, hope. It means to travel to memories of my Mother yelling to me from the car, as I walked into a Christian school to be one of 9 students of color, ‘Black is Beautiful!’ And in that space, it was definitely a wrestling match of conflicting ideas, a paradox. If I am beautiful (Black), why aren't there more people here who look like me? Am I Black enough for my Black people, and not too Black for mainstream America? As a father, I look into my son's wide brown eyes every night at bath time, rub his curly hair, and affirm his identity. ‘Rocco your Black is beautiful, your Brown is beautiful, your crown of curls are beautiful...from Africa, Japan, Cape Verde, America and everywhere in between. You are a King!’ This is my early life combat mantra to him. I want him to embrace everything that makes him unique in a world that would seek to tear him down. He will have no question about who he is or where he comes from, as my wife and I reinforce his identity through literature, music, fashion, food, art, and ultimately, from a biblical perspective, who God calls him. As a Black man, I know the harsh realities of societal oppression, but also celebrate the plight of my ancestors who fought to validate and protect my humanity. I love being Black, but I also know the pain that awaits me in society for being unshakable and unapologetically Black. There's no taking it off or subduing it for me. It's who I am, and I control my Black narrative.”
