I AM Z(BL)ACK.

I AM Z(BL)ACK.

Sunday, May 31, 2020

I don’t even really know where to start with this. For a while now, I’ve wanted to say something about the current landscape the country finds itself within. For most of my life, with the exception of a “that sucks” or a general disgust/distaste in the way Americans treat one another, I’ve remained silent. I am 26-years-old and the racial divide that permeates the news has been prevalent for my entire life. I’m filled with this deep sadness, this intense all-consuming rage, and complete and utter fear that continues to escalate as I scroll through Twitter. I’m feeling all of these things concurrently, and I’m genuinely scared to be an American and to bring any sort of child into this. I feel compelled now more than ever to use my strongest weapon, my words and my thoughts, to try to contribute to a better tomorrow.

THEN

Much of the divide, in my humble opinion goes back to the conception of this country in which the Europeans journeyed to the New World in search of goods, land, and ultimately a new future. What they did not expect to find were people with brown skin. These people were relegated as savages and brutally steamrolled and massacred by many colonists in the effort to assert dominance, power and burn down everything and build from the ashes. This idealism doesn’t even speak to the same colonists seeing people of color in Africa and Spain and treating them in much the same manner, though choosing to enslave these people starting another cycle of violence with ramifications leading into the modern day. This cycle of hatred and misunderstanding has pervaded far too long. Violence incites violence. We’ll touch more on that specific point later in this piece, but the thing is, violence can even be incited verbally or through text, thus the birth of the silent protest; but I digress, for now.

The thing is, what if these groups of people tried to understand one another a bit more despite the language and cultural divide? Look at that first Thanksgiving, in which the colonists thanked the Natives for their part in keeping them alive throughout the winter in Plymouth. These “forgotten” people, helped keep the white pilgrims alive, leading to what should have been a harmonious diffusion of culture and in many respects it was. The point of bringing this up is to show that although there were certainly bad colonists and yes, even bad Natives who resorted to violence, those whom didn’t were able to grow together and connect as human beings. 

At the end of the day, what are we? We are people. We are human beings. All of us. No matter who we are. We are naught but flesh, blood, bones, and an outer layer of skin encasing all of that sameness. We have more alike than our differences at a biological level. 

Fast-forward to the colonists needing workers for all of their new land and capturing enslaved Africans who would be shackled, work for free, be kept alive with the bare minimum, and bred to create an ever-lasting workforce of disposable livestock. They were treated in much the same manner as domesticated animals, though, without an ounce of affection in most cases. Imagine that. Imagine someone today coming into your home, shackling you in chains, putting you on a boat with hundreds of others who look like you, and then forcing you to work for them with your reward/payment often being physical or sexual abuse. Imagine being someone else’s property even with thoughts and feelings of your own. Truly Hell on Earth. Now imagine, the mindsets of a group of people or people like them and not like you, purely based on a physical level, continuing on generation after generation until they become intrinsic. Until those mindsets are expected, institutionalized and normalized. Until centuries later, the divide between those who inherently see themselves as elite compared to another group of people due to the actions of their ancestors persist. And here we are in 2020. A racial relationship born from hatred. We have the free will to change and break the mindsets of our forefathers and start something new. New and unknown is scary, but honestly, the old, known ways should be scarier. To me, they are.

America built the socioeconomic divide when they built the country. When slavery was abolished there was so much bad blood still in the country that led us into segregation, which completely defeated the purpose of blacks and whites living harmoniously, but again, the status quo took precedence here. This of course led to the Civil Rights Movement, where violence still persisted amongst acts of peace. It’s genuinely no wonder that events have escalated as powerfully since the Civil Rights Movement, as the same problems that plagued the country then have reemerged more overtly now. Police brutality, excessive force, a lack of empathy, leading to more of a divide. The difference now is that racially charged events are  highlighted via social media and modern technology. One of the only defenses for those whom are marginalized. Though, the media certainly has a part to play here, opting to show only the worst and continuing to deepen the divide. To be quite honest, I had to stop watching the news for a couple of years from probably 2015-2017, because it became so negatively charged, with any positive stories centering on fluff pieces. Given that I entered undergrad a journalism major, I understand why this is, but it still is an unfortunate reality of the media landscape. Again, I digress.

I could go deeper into the Civil Rights movement highlighting heroes who have gotten black people further than any others, and speaking to those who we’ve lost along the way, but I think you should probably know a lot here, although Black History is not integral to every school system (which is another problem in of itself) and absolutely should be.

For that matter, I could go deeper into each of the points in history discussed above, but I won’t because I want to place focus on the future.

NOW 

The second coming of the Civil Rights Movement is upon us. In the photo above (courtesy of NPR), you’ll see listed the names of every reported black person murdered by police since 2014, I’m positive the number is much higher. Many of these victims are children, who should have had their whole lives ahead of them to try to enact change or do whatever it is they wanted. Free will was stripped from them with their lives. Yes, the police do murder white people as well, but the number of black murders is double that of white.

For that matter, if you didn’t know I am of mixed race. My absentee father was black, and my mother is mostly white, with black blood from my maternal grandfather who was also of mixed race though mostly black and Native, with some white as well. So, I’ll spare you the genetics math, I am more black than white, but do have both white and Native DNA in addition to my black. 

2020 is terrifying, going into a new decade amidst a pandemic, riots and the death of my people at the hands of my people (let that sink in) continues. 

Remember when I mentioned that violence can be incited verbally or through text and thus the spread of fear and unease continues? I ask you to look objectively at some of the tweets the President has issued or some of the language he uses in press conferences. It’s hatespeech. It’s purpose is to assert his power and influence over anyone he doesn’t agree with. 

Such as referring to Lantinx people as “Illegals” or “Aliens,” whether or not they actually are in the country legally, Blacks as “Thugs,” or even referring to the current virus plaguing the world as the “China virus,” when given the time and opportunity to amend his statements over and over. He uses his platforms to ensure that the cycle of violence continues. So much so that it gives birth to more hatred within people that will undoubtedly continue to be inherited unless it’s stopped. Does any of this sound familiar? Maybe slightly harkening back to the mindsets and ideologies passed down that I mentioned before?

What’s more, is that these protests, while necessary, are causing people to have to mass congregate despite literally being in the middle of a pandemic and ultimately the harsh reality is that a lot more people are going to die due to the virus because of the riots. Businesses have had their livelihoods ruined forever more (by idiotic anarchists, not by the people who wanted to protest peacefully and outnumber the destructive fools). Lives are lost and changed because of this lack of leadership amidst the escalating hatred continuing to grow with the country. 

Continuing on from that point, while I definitely don’t condone looting and would never partake in something like that, I get it. Lifetimes of repression and prejudice would make anyone think that they are owed something, especially in the heat of the moment when police start enacting physical force. 

Speaking to police officers, as controversial as it might be coming from a black man, I don’t think all of them are bad. I really don’t. Maybe it’s naivety, maybe it’s wanting the believe the best in people, I don’t know. Please keep reading though. Although I don’t think they’re all bad, I do think most are, and I am very much afraid of the police. When I moved to Chicago, one of the biggest parts of switching to public transportation only that I never told anyone that I was excited about, was the fact that I couldn’t be pulled over anymore. I’ve been pulled over a handful of times from the ages of 16-24, and every time I froze and grew anxious with fear that if I did anything wrong in the eyes of the police officer that I would never see my family again, or the ones I love. “The talk” that you hear black people talk about is a very real thing. What I’m referring to is when your parents, or in my case, parent/grandparent, sit you down to tell you what you as a black person, can and cannot do in public and in the face of the police. You know, show your hands at all times, talk to how you’re not there to harm the police, ask for peace, etc. Sidebar: I can remember this one St. Patrick’s Day parade I went to in college and I told my mom about this girl who was so wasted that she tripped and fell with her pants around her ankles because she was pissing in the streets, and I went to help her to her feet. My mom said: “Zackary! How could you do that? Next time leave them!” Confused, I said “Mom, calm down, I was just trying to help.” She looks me in my face and said: “A drunk girl with her pants off, the police would have thought you raped her and then they could have arrested you or killed you and I would never see you again.”

When police join the academy, they are taught to take care of each other and the force over anything. When the President releases his hatespeech, authorizing the National Guard to “shoot the looters,” or authorizing police brutality or tweeting “No Mercy!” this gives the police, the corrupt police, the authority to take matters into their own hands and exert their power, their weaponry against whomever they want, because they know they’ll be protected. Their idea of keeping the peace is to keep themselves in absolute power and people like protestors have always been a threat to that. There are good cops. But there are more bad and the mob mentality to abuse their power is too great. Driving through crowds of pedestrians, like in New York, or shooting paint bombs into private homes in Minnesota is not what this country should be. We have to be better or there won’t be any we left. I am truly disgusted and physically sickened watching some of the physical acts of aggression carried out by those whom are supposed to be keeping the peace, but instead are the ones permeating the bloodshed. If you cannot handle the power that has been graciously granted to you, please turn in your badge. If you’re excited to go and attacks pedestrians, please turn in your badge. If you see people who look like me as enemies that need to be extinguished, please turn in your badge. Be better. Otherwise, please keep doing your jobs to actually protect the masses and not just the most powerful.

Let’s think about all of this contrast in one streamlined thought shall we? There are more peaceful protesters than anarchists/violent protestors + more corrupt/bad/violent cops than good peace-loving cops. Throw in some mob mentality on both ends and years of anger/hatred and your equations are the following: 

VIOLENCE + VIOLENCE = VIOLENCE. 

HATRED + HATRED = HATRED.

Thinking about yesterday’s protests, in cities where the police force united with the peaceful protestors in solidarity (Santa Ana, Denver, Flint), that message was to me, so much more powerful than the visceral fires and explosions that may work in the short term, but will definitely result in more pain and lives lost. 

I think, if you can open yourself up to feel each others pain as was demonstrated in Santa Ana, etc. then that opens us up to have a continued dialogue and work together as the human race to come up with a solution that works. Forcing change is not the way, which is why these protests started with pure intentions of frustration and exhaustion at a system that doesn’t work.

ME: THE ENVIRONMENT OF MY YOUTH

I’ve never felt the need to truly align with aspects of my identity that are intrinsic to my being as someone with free will. This is because in many ways I was systemized not to. 

I spent the first 21 years of my life living in a place called Grand Island, NY. This place was very much a white-picket fence suburb with very little culture outside of the “norm.” The norm here being white people who are extremely proud of their European heritage (Oh I’m German,” “oh well I’m French and a little bit Italian!,”) and quite close-minded to individuals of color. For the record, I have Dutch blood as well, but to me while that’s awesome, it’s not exactly a part of myself that’s marginalized unjustly and so I’m just asserting the point that these are the kind of people who won’t say that they’re white, but expect African Americans to say that they are just black and not Ghanian or Jamaican or what have you. 

The prejudices taught or rather inherited from families is palpable. To be black is to be seen as “ghetto,” or socioeconomically inept. To be Lantix is to be seen as gardeners, or illegal aliens. To be gay is to be viewed as disgusting and unholy/unnatural. The list continues. I know that in the time since I left that conditions have improved a bit, but mindsets in that town and really much of Western New York (and obviously the country) still have a long way to go. 

I didn’t know or understand what I was until I was about 7-years-old and kids started to treat me differently solely based on how I looked. As time went on, it didn’t matter that I was in AP/Honors Classes or even that I tried to keep a low profile, my race, and honestly, speculation about my sexuality as well, made me a prime candidate for prejudice within the halls of every school I attended on that island. We will talk in detail now about several isolated incidents that effected not only the way I perceived myself for a very long time, but ultimately what led to me shutting parts of myself away and trying to assimilate to do anything to be accepted and not just the “nigger” or “faggot” that I was referred to both to my face and behind my back by many of my peers for years. And yeah, I hope you flinched or winced reading those words.

ME: WHERE I’VE BEEN DIRECTLY EFFECTED BY RACISM 

Remember when I said that racism was inherited? This inheritance generally assumes a familial connection, but this isn’t always the case. Sometimes, our peers subconsciously elevate internalized racism. 

2001 – When I was seven, apart from me, I could count on my hand how many other black people went to my elementary school. In lunch one day, I glared across the lunchroom for the full lunch period at a black boy because he looked different from everyone else, I glared because I thought that I was special, because I was the only one who was a darker shade than my classmates, but here was this boy who was darker than me. I was confused and I was pissed. I made him cry with my hatred. It’s something I’ve always thought about since. Why did I feel the need to do this? He, visibly upset with tears streaming down his face, was asked by his teacher what was wrong, he told her and I was asked to join him and her in their classroom to spin the feelings wheel, and discuss why I felt the way I did. A feelings wheel could be really beneficial to people out there today.

2003 – In Vacation Bible School, a peer looked at me and said, “I get why your last name is Reese. Because your skin is like the peanut butter and your hair is like the chocolate.” I laughed awkwardly. 

2004-2012 – Black History Month. As if the history of black people specifically should only be taught/talked about for the shortest month of the year. My first and last names always put me in the back of the classroom alphabetically, and as a result, when the PA system announced that it was Black History Month and offered a fact everyday of the month about black people, most, if not all of my classmates would glance at me, or outwardly stare to see how I reacted. I learned how to bury my face in my arms, pretend to be sleeping, or just look at my desk. I also refused to speak on the announcements in high school when black students were asked to (by this point there was maybe 10 or us in a school of 500).

2005 – I was standing behind a girl in the lunch line in 5th grade. She told me to get to the back of the line where I belong, not wanting trouble, I did exactly that.

2007-2012 – Everyone constantly said “nigga” or referred to each other as niggas. Some even had the audacity to say that it was okay to say because they were friends with me. I remained silent.

2011 – For our Spirit Week in high school, there was a theme every day, and on one particular day my senior year, there was twin day. I am absolutely not proud of this but I participated in blackface this day. By this point, I was finally accepted by my peers and did not see anything wrong with one of my best friends getting an afro wig and painting his face black to twin with me. Similarly, my only black friend in the school twinned with a white girl who painted her entire body black with body paint. Like, down to the feet. The pictures from that day are really distasteful and to be quite honest, not one teacher in that school said a word. Nobody stopped this. No parents, no one saw it for what it was. Blackface. 

2012 – I am pretty sure I was only elected Prom King because I went with my one of my best friends who happens to be the same aforementioned black girl. The white guilt of my classmates undoubtedly made them vote for us solely because it would be “so cool” if a black couple won. I even actually heard someone say that night: “they only won because they’re black.”

Throughout school, people would make comments about my nose, my hair, my lips and even ask to touch my hair. Eventually I turned it into a joke and would put pencils in my long hair for the acceptance it gave me. They were laughing with me, not at me right? They would ask if I was related to the other black kids in the school: “Oh is that your cousin?”

I turned my back on my people and standing up for my people and eventually I came to hold the same viewpoint as some of my classmates, laughing when they made fun of black people, or flat out letting them say comments like “what are they doing here?” when we would see a black person walking on the street. They couldn’t be there, but I could because I was “different.” I didn’t want to be black because they got uncomfortable when I was. I code-switched indefinitely, until college.

Overt Racism/Inherent Racism/Stupid Comments, etc. lessened so much for me in college, and honestly I think this has something to do with the school I went to. Predominately black, I had never been exposed to so many people who looked like me. It was the cultural diffusion I needed to be proud of my blackness. The pride my new peers had in being black was intimidating, I still felt like an outsider due to years of systematic repression, but it was a good start. I still allowed my white friends to say “nigga” and now I know that this is not okay and I can’t take back all the times they said it, but I can make sure they don’t do it again.

Thinking professionally, I’m sure I’ve only been hired in certain jobs within my life to satisfy a diversity quota and not on the value of my merits. You see? Because of existing mindsets and thought patterns, I have to work twice as hard and usually for less money.

Not to mention, the people who cross the road when they see me coming, the retail workers who follow me throughout the stores, or the people who are surprised when they hear me speak commenting on my vocabulary. You get the picture.

Before we wrap up, I kind of touched on this above but this piece is not about my sexual preference, and I’ve certainly faced a ton of confusion, hate and prejudice about that as well. But like most things in this life, sexuality is absolutely fluid and a grey area and you’re lying through your teeth if you say otherwise. Labels do not matter to me, nor have they ever, but I certainly am more queer than straight, preferring the company of men, though I have been with women in the past and certainly could be in the future. It’s just not anything that I ever really thought I needed to talk about, but I realize now that that was probably naive. My racial and sexual identities are intrinsic parts of who I am and as a result I need to share that authentically, it’s me using my free will to claim my identity and not being forced to by anyone.

I bring this up, because there’s one more point I want to touch on before we march into the end of this piece. Stonewall. One of the most influential riots of this generation that brought on so much change for LGBTQIA+ folk was led by a black trans woman named Marsha P. Johnson. Just something to highlight as I see a lot of people in both the Black and LGBTQIA+ communities unable to understand one another when there is certainly common ground there. If it comes to it I’m happy to speak to my thoughts on this point and the marginalization of this community as well. 

Furthermore, while those protests ended up becoming violent riots, I do think it’s interesting that they did so much for gay rights while there have been so many more riots for black rights that haven’t proved as fruitful. I’m not saying that any one group is more marginalized than the other, but it’s definitely something to mention and reflect upon nonetheless.

I am proud to be black, and to come from such a centuries long struggle and try to make an honest life for myself despite daily prejudices that come my way. I am proud to be queer and I’m proud to be white and I’m proud to be Native. At the end of the day, I am proud of me.

——

Sidebar re: educating yourselves: Last night I watched The Hate U Give, which is extremely relevant right now and I implore you to do the same. Seek out literature and resources and educate yourselves on what it truly means to not have privilege. For reference, The Hate U Give is an Acronym for Thug Life. See below: This is what I’ve been talking about this whole time right?

The

Hate

U

Give

Little

Infants

Fucks

Everyone

JUST ME: HUMAN

I am an American Black Queer Man. I am also Native American and White. But you know what else I am? Flesh, and blood, and bone all encased in skin just like you. My skin just happens to be darker. 

THE CHALLENGE: FORWARD 

Please, if you’re reading this, then I implore you, no, I CHALLENGE you to think about each other on a human level, and be better. Take the higher road, have uncomfortable conversations until they become comfortable. Put yourselves out there peacefully, and when that peacefulness becomes violent because a drop of water in your sea of peace makes a splash, and it certainly will, relocate and continue peacefully. Those wanting peace vastly outnumber the anarchists, and fools looking to reap the benefits of oppression. 

If you are an ally, do more than posting on your Instagram story, donate, sign petitions, or write to your local government, hold those in power accountable. Attend protests, and most importantly talk to your friends and family about prejudice and racism and how you honestly feel and be sure to sort out those feelings before responding reactively. Allow people of color into your lives to share their experiences, viewpoints, and completely valid feelings to the horrors of being a person of color in a country founded on the freedom of those who reaped the benefits of racism. Especially, if you consume and enjoy black-created content. Look them in the eye and thank them for their existence. Do these things continually and not just when someone like George Floyd loses his life. The continued unified front of people will enact change. 

Everyone, one last exercise, I’d like to try… close your eyes, and imagine a black person, a white person, a Latinx person, a Native person, an Arab person, etc. what do you see immediately? Write that down and question why that is. Talk about what you saw.

People of color, although it may be painful, accept the help and effort of allies genuinely trying to understand, look them in the eye and thank them for their existence and hold them accountable when they slip up. 

I’m not saying I have all the answers, in fact, I’m not saying I have any answers, but I feel so impassioned to say something that I hope this helps someone somewhere. It’s certainly helped me. This is definitely not an overnight thing, but it is something that is absolutely necessary to the betterment and longevity of the human condition moving forward.

And that’s the only way right? Forward.

MANIFESTO

WE NEED TO STRIVE FOR UNITY AND LIVE TOGETHER. IF PEOPLE KEEP DYING, THERE WON’T BE ANYONE LEFT TO FIGHT FOR. RIGHT NOW, THE CALL TO ACTION NEEDS TO BE TO PROTECT AND ALIGN WITH MARGINALIZED FELLOW HUMANS WHO ARE HURTING AND TIRED AND SICK TO THEIR CORE. DO MORE. BE EMPATHETIC. BELIEVE IN THE INHERENT GOOD THAT PEOPLE HAVE. LASTLY, DON’T FORGET THE ONES WHO HAVE DIED, AND WORK TO MAKE SURE IT DOESN’T HAPPEN ANYMORE. VIOLENCE INCITES VIOLENCE, BUT LOVE INCITES LOVE. HUMANS ARE CAPABLE OF COMPASSION, MORESO THAN ANY OTHER LIVING CREATURE, WE HAVE FREE WILL, USE THAT WILL FOR CHANGE AND STAY SAFE, SMART, AND VIGILANT.