Piece of the Puzzle (WR)
piece of the puzzle
"To get ahead you gotta work twice as hard for half the reward", these were the words that resonated within me spoken by my Grandpa. It forever changed my perspective on life and work and helped me come to the realization that I couldn't be a piece of the puzzle for what white America expects of me, I have to create my own puzzle and identify for my future. I vowed to never entrap myself in the cycle of incarceration and to be the light and justice for my community.
Oftentimes, growing up, I didn't see myself as a black and asian kid. I didn't see how I was any different than everyone else. I didn't realize the nuances of blackness. When I sat in the classroom I saw myself as equal to everyone else, even though this was not true. As a child on the playground I found myself playing basketball on the blacktop court, I wanted to fly like LeBron, shoot like Paul Pierce. These were the figures I saw, but what I didn't know is that I could be more than a basketball player. I all knew was that they, like me, had brown skin. They were my superheroes, and for many other black boys, that was making it. Becoming an NBA player, an NFL player, becoming the next Usain Bolt. I too wanted to become an NBA player, days on the playground spent shooting, one on ones and knockout. What our elementary school minds didn't understand was that athletics as a black man doesn't have a safety net, if one day our knee snapped the reality would be that we would have no guidance, no way of life without sports. Oftentimes black boys' futures for themselves are limited, they don't see representation in the media, or in real life. One day while my friend and I were playing amongst ourselves we were going through our typical 1v1 banter, what I didn't know was that it would be my first real experience of racism. We were written up for inappropriate behavior and language, what was that you may ask? We were telling each other to "shut up". We were one of only 3 black boys in our grade at our school, and at the time we didn't realize that as black boys and men, we have to work twice as hard as everyone for half. We didn't know that we have an automatic target on our back because the expectations for black kids are to be unruly, aggressive and loud. We didn't know that to them, we weren't anything but two future trouble makers.
As a preteen, I started to better understand what role my race played in my life, and I hated it. I wanted so badly just to be the same as the White boys I grew up with. I denounced my Blackness, and tried to remove myself from its culture. Little did I know that my Blackness was a logo, and despite how hard I tried, I would never be the same as everyone else. As I sat at the table full of 6th grade white boys who did no more than tolerate me, a phrase was said that has stuck with me since then. "You're one of the good ones, Micah". What I didn't know with my 6th grade mind was that not only was this a backhanded compliment, it was racism. I wanted so much to be a puzzle piece that could fit in with them, but my rough and mismatched sides would never allow for that. This phase is one that has layers to it, the first layer being that you're one of them. The second being that the exceptions of Black kids are so low that it is considered an anomaly to be as "civilized" as them. The third being that I wasn't truly one of them, it was still acknowledging my Blackness, but my proximity to Whiteness made me passable, allowed me to fit in. What my 6th grade mind couldn't comprehend is that peeling off my logo wasn't going to make me fit the piece of the puzzle.
As a teenager, I started to acknowledge my blackness but just like before it came at the expense of my character and knowledge of oneself. I wanted to make up for lost years, I was black and that meant I had to be with my people. This mindset is an after effect of segregation in America, kids self separating themselves but not truly knowing why. I found myself still feeling like I did not truly fulfill my role as a puzzle piece, I still felt out of place. I remember my first time hearing the phrase white washed. "Mike, you lowkey whitewashed" were the words that came out of my friend's mouth one summer day. I didn't understand the nuance of the phrase. I was whitewashed but what does it mean to be white washed? Is it proximity to whiteness, is it denouncing oneself in favor of supremacy? The answer is that it's complicated. To me whitewashing isn't an intentional way of living, it's a byproduct of white supremacy. Many black kids who grow up in proximity to white kids feel like they're out of place, so imitating their behavior is the only way to be passable, to be safe. It's the same in the Black community, many boys grow up doing the things that make them passable. Putting on a facade of what they see it means to be a Black man or woman. To survive, is the human condition but true liberation isn't within stereotypes or imitation it's finding oneself BY yourself.
Today, I've found that I shouldn't be a piece of someone or something else's puzzle but I should be many pieces of the puzzle I've paved and created for myself. You should be the foundation for YOU not for white folks, not for Black folks, without loving yourself and finding peace of mind you'll never finish your puzzle of personality, of love, of self. Then are you truly a piece of the puzzle.
copyright © micah hill 2024
