As an angry and somewhat militant young black girl in the 1980’s, I did not feel like an American. I felt like an ‘other’. African American culture was in direct opposition to the propagandized life of what an American should be…and I was fairly comfortable with it. I didn’t grow up in ‘the ghetto’ but because of redlining, I did live in ‘the hood’. Meaning, our neighborhood was predominantly upwardly mobile Black folks with Middle Class leanings.
It wasn’t the Cosby Show but it wasn’t Good times either. It was like a crossroad. One could chose where to go from there. Some moved up and out of the neighborhood. Some moved down and out. I suppose that there are a lot of people like that in this country, white or black or brown or yellow. I wouldn’t know. I can only speak for my own experiences.
When President Obama broke the trend of whiteness in the White House, Of course I was elated. I voted for him because he was the only logical choice at the time. It was awesome that on top of everything else great about him, he was African American. I mean roots in the Motherland and all. I finally felt like it was true. One CAN grow up to be whatever you want in this country. IF a little biracial kid with no ties to the power structure can be president, Hell…I could be anything I want. For the first time in a long time, I began to say the pledge without being forced.
So, on this holiday, I say…”Hooray for the USA!”
Do we have some f***ed up racist murderers and a**holes? Yep.
Is one of them Donald Trump? Yep.
Do I give a s^^t? Nope.
This is the day I celebrate all of my family members who fought for this country. There are several. I celebrate the fact that I can marry whoever I want. I celebrate that as a woman of color, no one has the right to enslave me or cut off my clitoris.
Plus, I ate a crap load of BBQ and Apple Pie. Just like a good American girl…but I put hot sauce on the chicken and mayo on my corn (Biggups to My Fam in Guatemala!).
Yum.
acancersworld 