Why Are You Obsessed with My Race?

Introduction

When I was in middle school, I got in my first fight because of one of my classmates. I remember her name. Ayesha. She was the first black girl who tried me. She had the nerve to walk in the classroom holding on to her backpack, singing a stupid song she made up, "Stella is a white girl's name. Stella comes from zebras. Stella wants to be black so bad, but she's not. Stella's name means she steals." She laughed, and the entire class laughed as if that shit was funny. She continued, "Stella's name means she steals because she wants to (she pointed at most of the black people in the room) steal your color, because she wants to be black so bad." She walked towards me and put her finger in my face. I didn't say a word. She stepped a little closer and said it as loud as she could to make a scene for the entire class. She pulled her braids from behind her back as they rested below her shoulder, "What are you going to do next? Get braids like mine?" Everyone laughed louder than before. Once again, she put her finger in my face, "You wish you could, but people like you with that white girl hair..." I didn't let her finish her sentence. Instead, I grabbed her finger, bent it all the way back, and broke it. I didn't let her go until she screamed for mercy. I punched her in the face. I dragged her by her hair, walked over to the teacher's desk, reached for the scissors, and cut off her braids. The principal called my mom and told her to pick me up ASAP. She had the nerve to tell my mom that I had anger issues. I told my mom and the principal that I was being bullied because of my skin color. My mother believed me, but the principal was in denial. Once again, my mom transferred me to another school.

That was my first fight, and I can assure you that it was not my last! Most of my fights took place in my mind because I never understood why there was so much hate in the world. I cannot put my finger on why people hate people because they are too light or too dark. I mean, we all bleed the same color. Maybe it is not for me to understand. However, I think it would be so much easier to love. Hate pulls so much negative energy from the soul. I guess the saying is true; misery loves company.

I never was at one school long enough to make friends until I moved to another neighborhood. However, not too much changed. I can't say it was better, but it was doable as always. I never went to counseling for my 'behavior' because I never had a behavior issue—All I knew was that I wasn't going to sit around and be bullied. I had to stomp the ground and make my mark to let people know that I wasn't the one to take bullying lightly. I let it be known that my skin color doesn't make me weak and that I wasn't up for anyone's bullshit.

I do not know how many times I was told by jealous girls that the only reason why the boys like me was because I am light-skinned, redbone, or because I have 'good hair.' I couldn't believe shit like that would come out of their mouths. I used to ignore it, until one day, in 9th grade, this white girl named Celeste told everyone that I straightened my curly hair to fit in with the white girls so that I can get the black boys. She then told everyone that I prefer black boys because my mom married a black man. Weeks later, she spread another rumor and told everyone I couldn't make up my mind because black boys weren't my type, so I wanted to talk to a white boy because my mother is white. The day I had enough was when she swiped my papers off my desk and called me a black and white mutt. I couldn't take it anymore and stabbed her with a pencil and colored her face as much as I could with a black marker.

Once again, I got in trouble for someone bullying me because of my color. I was suspended, and my mom transferred me to a new school; and now I am here at North Seaside High, home of the snakes. Well, not really. It should be home of the snakes because so many people here are snakes, and to be honest, not anything less. In reality, we are the home of the Sharks. You better not bleed here, or the students will eat your ass up alive.

I am in the 11th grade. I've been going to North Seaside High since 10th grade. My school consists of more whites than blacks. Basically, our community is middle class with a small percentage of high class. To be honest, you would never know who has the most money because, from the looks of it, everyone is doing good for themselves. Most of the students who are mixed race have their own beliefs. Some of them say they are white because their mom is white, and some of them stand firm and say they are black because their mother is black. As for me, I am not either. I am a human race.