Goodbye to my American dream

Goodbye to my American dream

Posted in the Columbus Forum

Enzyte Bob

Reynoldsburg, OH

#1 Jul 17, 2013
1/2

Goodbye to my American dream

My mom moved us here for a better life. But as a black woman, I'm tired of loving a country that can't love me back

On the day of college graduation, I told my friends and family the news: I was leaving the country I had lived in since childhood.

“I just need a change,” I told them, but they knew there was more. Was it some romance gone awry, they wondered? Some impulsive response to a broken heart? And I was running from heartbreak. My relationship with the United States of America is the most tumultuous relationship I have ever had, and it ended with the heart-rending realization that a country I loved and believed in did not love me back.

Back in the ’90s, my mother brought me from our home in the Caribbean islands to the U.S., along with my brother and sister. I was 4 years old. She worked as a live-in nanny for two years, playing mommy for white kids whose parents had better things to do. She took trips to the Hamptons and even flew on a private jet to California as “the help.” My mom didn’t believe that nanny meant maid, but she did whatever was asked of her, because she was thirsty. She had a thirst that could only be quenched by the American dream. One day, she thought, her children would be educated. One day, they might have nannies of their own.

That was our path. Get a “good education.” When the neighborhoods with quality schools became too expensive for my mom to afford as a single parent with three kids, we traversed the United States with GreatSchools.net as our compass. New Jersey, elementary school: decent, mostly Hispanic school, even though my gifted and talented program was predominantly Indian. Texas, middle school:“Found a great school for you guys,” my mom said while rain poured into our car through the open windows where the straps of our mattresses were tied down. It had an “A” grade and was 70 percent white. Florida, high school:“Hey, Tiffanie, you should have this egg. It’s the only brown one like you!” my classmate told me during AP biology. Philadelphia, Hawaii, North, South, East, West. Car, U-Haul, Greyhound, plane, train. New York City, private university:“I really want to write an essay on being the gentrifier,” one courageous young man pitched in a journalism class. I was one of only two people who were disturbed.

For a long time I survived by covering myself in the labels I’d accumulated over the years. I plastered each one to my body with super glue as if they were Post-It note reminders that I was someone. Sports fanatic (hot pink). Feminist, beautiful, writer, comedian, fashionista, friend (fuchsia, yellow, blue, purple, red, green). I hid behind them; they were my only shields.

‪Green covered my eyes when a childhood friend’s family banged down my front door and demanded their daughter get out of the house full of blacks. Blue protected my heart when my black peers ostracized my enjoyment of complete, complex sentences. Yellow blocked my ears when whispers floated through the air at my ex-white-American boyfriend’s home like haunted ghosts: I can’t believe he is dating a black girl. The words passed like a gentle breeze barely creating flutter.‬

I existed right there on the fringe of ugly, ignorant and uncultured. Black but not black enough for my positive attributes to be justified.“Where are you from?” potential dates asked when they met me.“I am from Trinidad and Tobago,” I said.“Oh, that’s why you are so beautiful and exotic — I knew you couldn’t be all black.”

“Black people don’t really know how to swim,” my co-worker once told me when I worked as a swim instructor at my neighborhood’s pool.“What about me?” I asked.“Oh, you aren’t black. You’re from Trinidad,” she said.

“The black children don’t like to read very much,” I overheard one librarian discussing with another while I sat down reading a book a couple feet away. They passed right by me with smiles.
Enzyte Bob

Reynoldsburg, OH

#3 Jul 17, 2013
2/2 may have been deep sixed

remainder of the article here

http://www.salon.com/2013/07/16/goodbye_to_my...

check out the comments, including yours truly (click newest)
now hey now

Columbus, OH

#4 Jul 17, 2013
Stirring it up over there, Bob. Good job of it too. Eff those filthy NL-ing leftist trash.
As for the afri-trash writer, FU and take 30 million knigg-hers wich-yoo.
They cannot kill a Spook

Chicago, IL

#5 Jul 17, 2013
That broad should move to Somalia since she thinks the USA doesn't love her. Or see if she is even allowed out of the airport in Iceland. Last time I was there the only black was a a.guy who was electrocuted while working on a transform station extra crispy looking. He might have been an albino before becoming a human toaster element but he was not born black.

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