Greetings!

Hello to all, Thank you for taking the time to read my story about unacceptance, confusion, and being different than the average Mary Jane or John. I can say after all the reading, tribulations, sorrow, and happiness that I'm beginning to identify myself using an old term called "Quadroon". Many Quadroons due to being 1/4th Black could easily pass for White. My ethnic backround is Irish, English, French, American Indian, and Black. The Black is from a father I don’t know. I have reason to suspect my White mother from Mississippi has Black blood. somewhere due to the way no one wanted to admit or even knew my great grandmother’s total backround. I've always tried my hardest to be Black and nothing else despite my obvious pale European features. I guess because I'm told by 99% of Whites and 99% of Blacks that I'm White I've come to accept it for what it seems to be. And that's just it, no one can tell you who you are or should be! I feel due to my life experiences with Black people and what I feel inside that I'm Black. No matter what I do or say, there is always someone who tells me I'm using my White priveledge or I'm just a White boy in a Black neighborhood or a White boy that wants to be Black really bad. That's what it looks like and looks are always deceiving where race, color, and ancestry is concerned. I guess a way to sum it up is I’m a White boy with a Mulatto father or a Black boy that is way too White. Let me be the judge of that. No one understands me except myself and a small handful of people. I've learned to love others my best in these twentysomething years I hold. It’s always better to love than hate because hate will consume you and takes too much energy to hate. In other words, I've looked for good in all people. I try to keep my head up. I've been verbally and physically attacked in predominantly Black areas for seeming to be the stupid honky that isn't suppose to be there. I'm trying to learn how to assimilate with other races and colors but somehow I return to the Black side of things for comfort and familiarity. At times, however, it's not comfort let me tell you. As everyone knows, it’s hard fitting in sometimes without adapting other’s negative and partial viewpoints. I’ve done this before. As I’m, becoming my own person, I don’t have to do that now. I was born in Aurora, Illinois which is 35 miles from downtown Chicago. I grew up in a lower middle class White and Hispanic neighborhood. I was shunned and always treated differently especially because there was no father around. I was always the last to be picked to do anything and was chased home and literally scared to death of most Blacks, Whites, and Hispanics. I didn’t have anyone but a neighbor girl named Glenda (bless her) that was ever around when I was being taunted and humiliated and she would beat them down. Not the best solution looking back but that’s what happened. I went to schools that were normally 50% White, 30% Black, and about 20% Hispanic-mainly Mexican. When I was 12-13 my mother made me go to a Lutheran school which wasn’t any better. It was 80% White obviously and I was always fighting with those White boys. They wouldn’t cease. The next year which was 8th grade I went to the public junior high and was reunited with many people I called my friends and met more. This is when I decided that I now was “officially Black”. Needless to say, I was well accepted at first. As time went on, I was of no interest and I stopped playing sports and began high school in the late 80’s. I dated a few Black girls in high school and got a lot of attention good and bad. Many Black guys despised me others found my whole being amusing. White people didn’t seem to care that much for me either but remained silent mostly. All in all, I learned a lot but it took many years for the writing on the wall to set in. I didn’t decide to finish college after briefly only taking 3 courses. I had no direction or thought on what I wanted to accomplish. My mother always taught me working is more important and so I wanted to make money instead. During the 90’s I was able to go to the West Indies visiting several islands with special friends I met in the course of life. It’s funny, because people like Vanessa L. Williams are considered undoubtedly White and nothing else by most people there. I felt like I was an awesome being in places like Commonwealth of Dominica, St. Vincent, and Sint Maarten. I was treated extremely well by most people and felt at home. This was just travelling not reality. I knew I’d be coming back to the United States and be at square one with the race card and still not fitting in. I can’t complain because I’ve been lucky. I’ve always been blessed with a job, transportation, place to live, and money for my needs. When I think of that I don’t even feel like talking about this anymore! I had to share this because I wanted to help anyone I could. I never had anyone to talk with (that understood and wanted to listen) about all of this when I was younger. You need to let this type of thing out so you can free your mind. Here’s a spiritual passage for you:

I Stood the Test of Time

How is it that I could walk, talk, and run Life for me wasn’t always fun I’m still off the beaten path Trying to stay out the way of other’s wrath I can do bad all by myself Don’t overcome me with your beauty or false wealth I don’t need no fancy clothes or caravan Take the time to know me as a simple man Question me not, if I can’t question you I don’t have time to be goin’ through and through I pulled myself out of an empty hole This was only to find you don’t love me no mo’ I walked this earth alone all my years I will not shed no one else’s tears All I ask is you respect me for who I am Please don’t patronize me, for I’m not a helpless lamb It feels good after blood, sweat, tears To know I have chased away all my fears As always there’s no reason or rhyme That I stood the test of time

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