I Can’t Breathe

Make It Stand Out.

I never intended to live in a place that was predominantly White. As a proud New York City native (Manhattan born and raised) I was inundated with diversity at every turn. As a full-fledged adult I chose to live in metropolitan areas like Los Angeles, Atlanta, and Philadelphia where Blackness was common. And celebrated. But here I am. A Black woman living in New Hampshire. I came for the job and 7 years later I’m still here.

But, on a regular basis, I can’t breathe. Not in the literal sense (because the air quality here is far better than anywhere else I’ve lived!), but in the figurative sense. I feel like I am living in a foreign land. It is lonely being the only Black person in so many spaces. It is suffocating to know that whatever I do or say has the potential to be a representation of an entire ethnic group. And it is tiring to have to battle big and small acts of ignorance (read: racism) every day. No, I am not being too sensitive and I am not overexaggerating. Every. Single. Day.

But I can take it. I have thick skin and am strong-willed. All that strength, however, withers away when I think about my babies. I had never fully considered how I would feel once I had children. I came to New Hampshire as a single woman with no kids. Now, I have a Black husband and three beautiful Black children. And I am worse than tired. I am scared.

Yesterday my daughter told me that “friends didn’t want to play with her on the playground” and the very first thought I had was, “Here we go… I have to have the racism talk with my daughter at age 3…” Is it possible that she was exaggerating? Perhaps they didn’t want to play with her because of her strong leadership skills (read: bossiness)? I don’t know the real answer but I know that my very first thought was that her peers didn’t want to play with her because she is Black. And I am not crazy to have those thoughts when so often well-meaning White people in my everyday life have no idea that what they are saying or doing can be read as racist.

I don’t pretend to have all the answers. I actually feel like I have all of the questions. Are parents having conversations within their circles about what is happening to Black people in this country? Are my Black children safe when they leave my presence? Can I really raise my babies in a foreign land? How do I get some air?