Someone Who Looks Like Me

“None of us got where we are solely by pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps. We got here because somebody - a parent, a teacher, an Ivy League crony or a few nuns - bent down and helped us pick up our boots.”

Thurgood Marshall

Moving to Washington DC has relocated me to another amazing Mecca that is infiltrated with so much moving Black Culture. Already, I have gotten to speak to the brilliant Dr. Michael Eric Dyson and meet Isaiah Washington at a local Male Summit at Howard University. I was able to be in the presence of Toni Morrison and I was humbled enough to be a part of history at the unveiling of The Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Monument dedication with our First Family present on Sunday, October 16th. With thanks to my Graduate Program, I now have peers and distinguished professors from Egypt, South Africa, Mozambique, Kenya, Ethiopia, Poland, to Alaska—literally! The influx of so many divergent experiences, cultures, and perspectives is healthily challenging me to expand my mind beyond the limitations that have been previously created and to fall in love with our people in a whole renewed way.

Though I have been able to indulge in many great cultural entities, I have been introduced to a variant Black Culture. I certainly believe that every different space has a slightly nuanced culture—coming from Harlem to DC, I have certainly come to a better understanding of that. Simply because two cities have a large demographic of Black people as their commonality, does not equate to those two places being identical.

One of the things that I have come to learn is just how fragmented we can often be as a people.  As unfortunate as it is, too often we look at one another as each other’s enemies than we do as comrades within a very similar struggle. This can be attributed to many reasons and causes, one of which is the fact that we see each other in such a distant way; there are times where our intersecting realities become very distinct in our eyes-- enough so that we become comfortable enough to remain at a certain dissonance when dealing with one another. Because there are so many diverse interpretations of what the singular “Black Experience” is, sometimes we isolate ourselves when we feel like we cannot readily identify with someone else’s experience, even if that someone else has the same skin tone as ours.

Upon my relocation to DC came a massive occupation search. And fortunately, a suitable job presented itself in the right time. Though I am only going into my 5th week on the job, working with a mixture of races, has again reminded me of what plagues our community from both ends. I would say that I work with a majority of minority women, particularly African-American, a handful of Caucasian women, and about three African-American males. From what I have gathered, the White employees tend to have higher positions in the company due to their educational background, licensing, and years of experience and perhaps a few other factors. Most of the minority employees tend to hold the same position with one another which happens to be in a slightly lower ranking than the white employees; the few colleagues who spoke to me expressed their inability to get particular positions due to the fact that they did not complete their college degree. Upon my application for the job and interview process, I was able to get a position which put me in the medium and tense spot between most of my Black co-workers. In essence, though they have been at the company for longer than I have, my credentials and education allowed me to get the position that many of my African-American colleagues desired.

There was a certain degree of cultural shock for me upon my arrival on the job from the intense and blatant disrespect and disregard from the very people who happened to look just like me. On the other hand, the embrace and cordiality, (whether genuine or not), from the Caucasian women put things in a certain perspective for me. The eyes rolling  and “who does she think she is” glances and whispers when I walk into work with my Howard Graduate School Bag (because I am in fact often coming from class and not just wearing it to be arrogant as they presume) is unbelievable, and it is not familiar to me. Initially, walking into this job, I was a bit naïve to assume  that simply because there were women who happened to look like me, that I was going to be automatically embraced.

This sort of silent hazing process in which many of the Black women and men alike felt the need to subjugate me to was disheartening and almost defeating at times because it showed me just how quick we are to dismiss a person who looks like us, yet how unconscious and automatic it is to embrace someone who does not. Though I tried to at the very least to strike up menial conversations with my new co-workers, it seemed as though I was singled out for getting the job, the way I carried myself, perhaps my education, and for simply being myself altogether. Though it was quite unsettling initially, I opted to use this occurrence to make more sense of our race relations. Though I could not be for certain that this entire issue is in fact a race issue, I can certainly go off of my intuition as a conscious Black woman.
After much thought, I have come to the conclusion that I was not accepted due to a host of reasons, some that I may never come to the full understanding of. One of which I believe is the fact that unfortunately, though my colored co-workers and I are all employed in the same company, they perceive me as competition and as an antagonist, while our white co-workers are not in the least phased by my presence, not because they adore me, but more likely because they do not even feel threatened within their job security by me, which is a whole other issue.

All in all, I have been able to conclude that we must love and respect our community in our most ideal situations and the uncomfortable ones as well. The very same dark hues that reject us initially might me the ones that need our acceptance and  voice to speak on behalf of theirs one day. Though this particular incident has been unfortunate in many rights for me on a personal standpoint, I am assured that it has proven to be a teaching one and any teaching incident has the aptitude to do meaningful things within our lives and the lives beyond just ours. As Will Smith once said, “I'm profoundly changed. There's a bittersweet emotion that I feel from playing this role. . . . I want the world to be different because I was here. However lofty or crazy or delusional that may sound, I want people's lives to be better because I was here.”

“I really think the range of emotions and perceptions I have had access to as a black person and as a female person are greater than those of people who are neither....So it seems to me that my world did not shrink because I was a black female writer. It just got bigger.”-Toni Morrison

Written By: Sophia S. Vilceus