The Brown Skin I Wear

I planned to upload a very different blog post today, but at the last minute, decided I had to write about the recent events on police brutality. As one of my goals for this blog is to create a supportive, welcoming community for all, I want to express to you the heaviness many of you are feeling- but from my perspective as a person of color*. My news feed has been filled with white people posting about police brutality and being "white allies," and while I appreciate the support, I was reminded of a poem I wrote a few months ago on the frustration I often carry in situations like this.

i don't need a white person
trying to fight for me
i don't need
your white savior complex
to rescue me
or your guilt
from the way you've
treated my people
to finally move you
to take action

 

where were you when
i sat on the bus
and a girl told her friends
to not sit next to me
because i am brown?
where were you
when i was followed in a store
because a worker
thought i looked suspicious?

 

you were never there

 

i have always
had to stand up for myself 

and do so every day of my life

For many years I went to a painfully white school in a very white town, attended church where more often than not, I was the only brown person in the congregation, and in my age group. I've spent years feeling less than and always second guessing my opportunities, myself, because of the color of my skin. I've been objectified- considered 'exotic' because I am brown and from a different country. People have spoken down to me, seen me for only my skin. I've watched as the white, blonde girls get praised, want tans and are considered beautiful when their skin is a little darker in the summer. But that barely brown skin fades. And mine stays forever, only to get darker when the sun comes in, only for me to continue to be viewed as not as beautiful, not as important. Shouldn't the reality be we are all beautiful and valuable? Because we are.

I remember I was pulled over by a police officer in Rexburg. He approached my car like I was dangerous, staying to the side and peering over to my window as he told me to put my hands on the wheel, and not make any sudden movements. I was privileged (and how terrible it is that I have to use that word when simply being pulled over) to get a warning and continue on with my day. But I still wondered; Was he scared of me because of my skin color? No white person would ever have to second guess themselves for that.

Brown people, people of color in general, have had to fight for equality for so long and I just don't get it. Why do we have to prove ourselves? And why do we always have to have white people to be around us to try and show the other white people we aren't all that bad? 

Our voices will not be silenced. We will continue to march. To protest. Nothing has stopped us before and nothing will stop us now. 

To all my POCs, remember we are filled with 

Keep fighting. And for all my non-POC friends and family, continue to educate yourselves, continue to recognize your privilege, and allow us to speak. Fight beside us, not for us.

Thank you for reading.

---Maggie

*Note: This is written from my personal views and experiences- I do not speak for all POCs.