Well clearly I’m a Black African American Female. I mean I have brown skin. My hair cannot and I mean Can Not have a comb slip straight through it. My eyes are dark brown. And everyone I know in my family is Black. At least that is what I have been taught all of my life. HA! The joke was on me. When I stepped outside of the United States of America I quickly learned my skin tone had NOTHING to do with who I was. The government did not care if I was orange, yellow, or purple they cared about what country I was from and how long I was staying. They cared about what I was there to do and what places I would be going to see. The color of my skin had absolutely no purpose for my life. No purpose at all.
All my life I knew myself to be Black/ African American. America had lied to me. I was just apart of America’s creation of a subcategory. A subcategory created to divide what we all are. What we all stand to be “Home of the brave Land of the free” “United we Stand Divided we Fall.” You know all the great tag lines we recited in Elementary but had no true definition of its meaning? That’s why half of us still screw up the national anthem. Is it wrong to say I didn’t become an American until I the day I was headed back from China? It’s sad to think most immigrants or refugees appreciate America more than an American who was born in the states. We are spoiled and I was not able to realize this until my first international experience. Until that moment, I had only experienced the life of an African American. A side performer not a Headliner. A choir member not the lead singer. I was hidden somewhere in the back within America’s group huddle and I finally was nominated to become everyone’s representative.
Talking about a bittersweet moment. I was not aware of all of the CNN headlines. I did not know everything about politics. What did I get myself into? I just wanted to experience an international trip to China. I did not sign up to become this representative of every American issue, American Policy, American everything. I was just a Black Female. What do you mean I’m an American? Do you not understand the pressure? I was not famous for something that outweighed my Americaness like Beyonce or anyone, I was just me in China. But then I began thinking about it.
I am an American. Do you realize the amount of power that is? I am not just Black anymore. I am everything. I’m like two steps short from being the President. Not Really. But honestly. I made it! I might not have had the title, but I had A Title in a country that was not trying to sub categorize me. If anything happened to me at the hands of the country I was visiting and I mean ANYTHING my country was going to do everything in their power to find little old me and American Student in China on a Visa. I didn’t have that much power in America, but you would be surprised at the amount of power your home has when they can’t find you.
Whether it's America, or whoever you love, when you leave and can't make it home it effects more than just you. No matter how far you travel or call yourself running away from home, what is considered home to you, will never have a distance that matters.
