When Richard Wright wrote “The Ethics of Living Jim Crow, an Autobiographical Sketch”, he began by telling the story of how he “learned” to be black. The incident commenced with a school yard fight with a white boy, resulting in his own mother beating him to teach him that he should never fight whites because he will never win.
I’m not black. But when W.E.B. DuBois in “Souls of Black Folk” asked, “How does it feel to be a problem?” I knew exactly what he meant. I belong to a different group of people who have also grown up in America, yet learned early on in life that we were a problem. Prior to 2001, I knew that my family and beliefs were different than those of my peers, but it was after 2001 when I learned that not only were we different, but we were something to be feared.
In Mychal Denzel Smith’s article “To Be Young and Black in America: Always Considered a Threat” Smith describes the fear of being Black and watching the news. He states, “I’ve developed three responses to most news headlines: ‘Couldn’t have been a black person,’ ‘Please, Lord, don’t let it be a black person,’ and ‘Oh, that was definitely a black person.’” When I sit down and watch the news, I develop the same emotional response as a Muslim-American. I find myself praying that any heinous act committed was not perpetrated by another Muslim. I cried during the Boston bombings, not only for the victims, but because my phone flooded with texts stating that the bomber looked just like my little brother.
Smith states, “This is what it is to be young and black in America: you are always considered a threat.” I am lucky, because I don’t wear my religion on my skin. I’m not followed through stores, and I am not regularly bothered and harassed, because I am lucky enough that nobody can know that I am “a problem” by simply looking at me (and this is only because I do not wear a hijab. I cannot say the same for some of my closest friends). Within a few pages of his sketch, Wright reminds the reader that being black is a social construct that we have created; he does this when he recounts a time in his life where he did not realize that the color of his skin mattered at all. Being black is something that you learn how to do. And yet decades later, in a different color, I lost a similar battle in a school yard the first time someone called me a “terrorist”. I went home that night and my mother told me that I was going to lose this battle for a very long time.
Smith, Mychal D. “To Be Young and Black in America: Always Considered a Threat.” The Nation, n.d. Web. 18 Nov. 2013. <http://www.thenation.com/blog/174602/be-young-and-black-america-always-considered-threat>.
Wow. What an excellently written reflection on two cultures that have long been criticized, ostracized and marginalized by society. It is so interesting to read the similarities of the challenges faced not only by black Americans, but also by Muslim Americans. Growing up in a more than conservative household in Dallas, Texas, I unfortunately and shamefully can say that I have never given much thought to the people behind the “mask” of the muslim culture, in much the same way as I have never given much thought to the “mask” worn by African-Americans. This is wrong. No one should grow up feeling like their beliefs are “something to be feared,” in the same way that no one should grow up feeling that the color of their skin makes them “a problem.” I applaud you for sharing such an intimate piece of your past, and of your future.