Encountering Complacent Racism...

When I was in my last year of high school, I was a part of our school newspaper. I was opinionated. And even more, I was Black, and a young woman. Three things you clearly can’t mix. I was the only Black girl in class, BTW.

I remember one random day, the editors (who were all non-Black people of color (NBPOC) pulled me out of class and into the hallway, and told me my demeanor toward my peers was intimidating and aggressive; that I’d given the class an overcast once I entered the room and that my opinions were too intimidating for my peers.

I was shocked. I was being myself, genuinely, and honestly. I took no bullshit. I was smart, often got into verbal tug-a-wars’ with the Editor-In-Chief because he was a douche. I wasn't the first opinionated journalist to touch this newspaper, and I wasn't going to be the last. The last editor in chief was super problematic, but she wasn't pulled in the halls by her peers— for obvious reasons.

I was astounded as to why I was chosen to negatively represent the emotionally opinionated Black high school girl. It didn’t make sense at the time. But now I understand. They pulled me out of the class and subtly called me an angry Black woman. I genuinely couldn't understand what I did wrong. I stayed to myself mostly; I was the best writer, I brought the best articles. I was always caught up on the news. I could answer a lot of political questions for a 16-year-old.

In that hallway, I’d been the victim of ‘dog whistle politics’ in conjunction with complacent racism from NBPOC. I then found out I would be associated with this stereotype for the rest of my life.

If you didn’t know, dog whistle politics is a series of words or attributes used to describe a certain type of person generally based on stereotypes without directly using the name or title of said person. Like the welfare queen, or the terrorist, or the ‘illegal immigrant’, a lot of people would conjure up a specific image in their head of who they’d feel best represent the epithet.

Understand this: what complacent racism does is allow the party to absolve themselves of racism or racist acts because it doesn't directly affect or apply to them but, also impose these racist ideologies on others.

Lets talk about the angry Black women trope for a second. She’s typically, well, “angry”. But its not your conventional run of the mill reactionary anger. Its irrational anger that’s sparked by anything. She’s neck-jerking, and eye-rolling, with a ‘ready-to-pounce’ temperament that makes her unbearable. Her opinions are often drowned out by her demeanor. She is intimidating and aggressive. It makes her unable to have a conversation with thought and opinions.

A lot of Black women are viewed through the angry Black woman lens. And in that hall, those editors were telling me that I had become that, that it was my fault that I made people uncomfortable with my “intimidation”. I couldn't defend myself because my demeanor was seen as a weapon. My opinions that were treated as contaminants because instead of listening to the things I brought to the table, they saw me just as a Black girl and distanced themselves from what could be viewed as valid.

In that hallway, I asked repeatedly who felt intimidated, but they wouldn't give an answer. And to this day, they probably couldn't be able to give me an answer because they themselves probably don’t know. And even though we were all minorities, this complacent racism was still upheld by other people of color. What they did manage to do was successfully separate themselves from me. I was the “they” to them.

Its like that scene in Get Out, where there’s one seemingly Asian man among a group of white folks who asks the questions they were afraid to ask. However, he was okay with asking racist shit because it wasn't directed at him. This is complacent racism; and make no mistake, it can and will be upheld by non-Black people of color if need be.

What I faced in that high school hallway was a representation of it. It took its form in calling me an “angry Black woman”, and in that moment all innocence I had as a teenager was taken away from me. I wash no longer a teen. I was an emotion, a caricature, if you will. I was what they needed me to be to make this easier for them. And in that hallway came the reality for the rest of my life.

Its moments like these that I’m truly grateful for Howard. I know in class discussions, Black people are able to converse without being labeled angry, or too aggressive. I’m not told to tone down my Blackness. I can function wholeheartedly as a person and, as a person with emotion.

And this gives me anxiety for the future. In a situation where I am a Black face in a white space does concern me. I’m Black, and if I just so happen to be angry, then deal with it. What I won't do is apologize for being an emotional human being.

My Blackness and my emotional temperament are not mutually exclusive.