Race Run | Race & Religion

Since I was a little girl I’ve loved black stuff. I say Black stuff because the things that I love are in multiple categories. Television, films, magazines, events, history, culture. So, yeah – Black stuff! But I was also kind of different for my age. I talked about things little girls typically don’t talk about. I wanted to understand the whys to everything. Not just the whys of ‘why can’t we have Mc Donalds for dinner’. Of course the Black answer was ALWAYS ‘do you have Mc Donalds Money?’ And of course I didn’t, I was a kid! But what I did have was a big imagination, a lot of curiosity, a concern for the deepest things of the world and oh… tons of fear of other people. But we’ll get into that another day. When you couple curiosity, a religious upbringing and a passion for Black stuff, the need to want to know why poor people exist, or why people go crazy over over prices things that can easily be destroyed, oh and also a silly and goofy as-I-don’t-know-what kind of kid, all mixed with fear of people? You get a little girl who is weird, socially awkward, odd and strange. At least that’s what I was often told. 

That feedback put me into a deeper box of isolation. Not always sharing my true feelings or expressing myself the way I wanted to freely, for fear of being clowned and talked about, again!  Instead of being strong, not caring what other people thought of me, I kept it inside. Every now and again, there were a few people I was comfortable enough to just lay my hair down but generally speaking, I spent a lot of time alone, in my thoughts, in mixed feelings and but wanting what I saw on T.V., Moesha a girl who would go to ‘the spot’ and was into poetry. All that silly kids doing silly things. Jamie Foxx, writing jingles one day for a living because I love to write songs and sing. 

So what does all this have to do with loving Black stuff? Well, I watched it or read about it and I was so isolated for my ‘strange’ ways that I didn’t know how to express my love for Black stuff. It felt bigger than me. Like the topics I was drawn to, I didn’t have answers for. Why did the transatlantic slave trade exist? Why does our hair have to be straightened? Why are we worse off because our skin is darker? Why do all the boys at school always go for the light skinned girls? Why are black people ashamed to be Black? Why do Black people make fun of Africans? And why do we keep listening to music that calls us, women, bitches? I hated that with a passion and it never made sense to me, it felt so backwards as a kid. So what does a young Black girl like this do with thoughts like these? Nothing.

I didn’t feel like I had anyone to talk to who would relate without shutting my thoughts and questions down and without criticizing me. The crazy part of it all though, is I did have someone but I never truly capitalized on the relationship at the time. Me and Jesus were like peas in a pod, I truly saw him as my best friend. But I didn’t know I could give him these thoughts. I mean I did go deep with God about the things I hated seeing in the world or even the personal things that seem minute to others, like praying I’d stop peeing in the bed or that my boobs would get bigger – yes I prayed for both, fight me. That’s just how tight Jesus and I are. And he answered both of those prayers! Good lookin’ out big G. So when it came to my ethnicity, why didn't I talk with him about those hard questions? I guess I didn’t think I could. 

Maybe subconsciously these were the untouchable topics. So I didn’t. But just for kicks and giggles, let’s throw one more wrench into this Black girls multi convoluted background. I spoke in a way that made me target. “Why are you talking like a white girl?”I know this is not unique to me and that a lot of Black girls who spoke a curtain way would hear this. I know that era of conversation has come and gone (but will come back again), but that’s part of my background too. Funny enough, I would listen to my mom’s and my dad’s voicemail messages over and over again and would mimic it, because that’s also what I loved to do: mimic voices, commercials, songs, movies etc. So I wasn’t trying to be white or sound white, I was actually trying to sound like my mom and dad ironically lol. Who are African American and Nigerian. Let’s fast forward to attending an HBCU, where my why started to get answered, where I find friendship and can be myself - some times, but hey it’s better than no time. A place where my calling was being shaped it seems. Because as that awkward, curious, silly, Jesus loving, Black stuff loving little girl, the call was already there, I just didn’t know it. But over the years I would fight it. 

From middle school all the way from college I was always looked at like, “here she goes again”, it’s the deep breath, the eye roll, the walking away from the group table and eventually everyone walks away, and you’re standing alone. It’s the, “oh you of those India Arie kind of girls aren’t you?” I was even named DTM, doing-the-most in high school because I loved to go deep, have hard conversations. But keep pulling away from them because of the response. Most people see me as bold because I’m out spoken, but I was a coward a lot of the time. For every moment I was bold there's 50 fearful moments to outmatch it. 

Post college I remember having a conversation with some friends after church and the topic at hand was: what race was Jesus? I thought ‘I mean, we know where his mother is from, father is from, where he was born, why is this and has been such a mystery? Like I really don’t get it.’ Now, did I say that? No. Because I was scared.  Then I heard, ‘why does it matter? It doesn’t matter he saved all of us, that’s the bigger point.’ Something in me broke, my mouth opened and I spoke, “well shouldn’t it matter? Knowing his race doesn’t take away from the fact that he did for everyone. I definitely don’t think he's white and I don’t think he’s Black either, he’s from Galilee! What do people who are from Galilee look like?’ I was speaking a bit louder and I’m super expressive so I used my hands and probably my face too. They just looked at me like, it’s not that serious. But for some reason it was to me. It was that serious. It is that important and it was and had been burning inside of me and I didn’t even fully realize it. That was the first time, that I can recall, that I had spoken up about my faith and my ethnicity at the same time. The first of many to come. 

Even when I was in my adolescence and pulled away from the hard topics I knew I wanted to discuss, I also was pulling away from my calling. I’m now in my mid 20s and a radio producer for a Black radio station. Here I learned more about activist journalism. I down played myself as a journalist in general because I often didn’t care about the numbers and data so I counted myself out. Until a mentor of mine said, ‘girl you’re a journalist, stop it’. So now I consider myself to have a bit of a journalistic foundation. But what I now say is, I just care more about the people behind the numbers and their stories matter just as much as the data.

As I got older and from one project to the next, it was clear that my love for Black stuff wasn’t going away anytime soon. Every project I produced seemed to have my ethnicity at the center. So no, this is not a tread for me. But if I’m honest I was kind of taking the safer route. I knew I wanted to hit hard topics because I had gotten to a place where I talked about them everyday. And still got the eye rolls of, here she does again on another Black rant. Yeah – here I go because yall don’t seem to know, understand or care about how important this is. Then I would feel conflicted as a Christian. I told yall me and Jesus are tight. I felt like I should put down my degrees, pick up my bible and become a preacher. Because remember, I’m into deep things in general. So when it comes to the Bible, I can see God painting a picture that looks so different from what the church showed me. And it’s beautiful, doesn’t go against itself or himself, still aligning with the whole truth of who he said he is and who he wants us to live. So I started to let him in little by little when addressing these harder issues over the years and when I decided to truly surrender, then truly surrender again, then truly surrender again – because it happened more than once, as I now realize is supposed to happen, it kept bringing me closer and closer and closer to my passion for not just black stuff but ethnicity in general – and black stuff lol. 

Then I just stopped. I hit a wall. Tired from fighting spiritually, fighting in conversations about why we matter and tired of fighting myself on what the heck I’m actually doing with my life. 

Then recently I had such a strange encounter. I was in a group conversation with people I’d just met and someone was essentially encouraging us to stand up for what's right and keep up the fight, and not to give in. Meanwhile, I was thinking to myself, ‘yeah I used to be that person. But I’m also skilled in a few things, so I’ve been a bit back and forth about what my purpose is and maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with that fact that I’m Black or have a passion to talk about our stories because to be honest, I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting a battle that never seems to end or seems to be rigid from the beginning. Then I found myself on the verge of crying. In front of strangers. I told myself to get it together and relax. I did. But the more the conversation persisted, the more something was happening and I couldn’t tell you what. All I know is a strong sense of this is what I’ve called you to. This is what you're made for. I wired you like this on purpose. These words can’t even summarize what I experienced. 

I went home and prayed crying, ‘if what you are saying to me Lord, is that all along blackness, the same blackness that people keep trying to push away from Christianity, the church, me, my conversations, that that’s what I’m called to, well I’m scared. I just faced the heaviest warfare in my life and thank you, I came out alive but that was scary, this is scary! I don’t know, I don’t think I can go that deep this time. Is this really you telling me this.’  Daughter I’m calling you to go deeper. It will get dark at times but I will be with you. Will you trust me?

All along I was yes embracing my race but also running from it because, well, most Christians are and secondly, I was scared. But there is no topic too scary, too hard, too taboo for Christ. I won’t always like his answers, but I’ve decided to go deeper with him when it comes to ethnicity. Both of them. This is my lot. This is my race. And with Christ's help, I plan to finish it. So I’m not running from my race anymore, I’m courageously running the race. 

I don’t have all the answers but I know someone who does.