It’s time for us to talk about who decides who is Black

“You talk white.” one of my fellow classmates said in disgust, prompting others around to snicker and giggle. I was in the 2nd grade, it was just after lunch and we hand made it to the concrete covered field our elementary school dared to call a play yard. I had never in my 8 short years only planet earth given much thought to how I spoke, until that day.

Honestly, I was always commended on my speech, from church leaders, my teachers, most of all from my own parents who were the guiding reason I spoke the way I did, all of whom were Black people. It wasn’t until middle school that I was even exposed to White culture and White people.

I didn’t know all of the ins and outs of that statement, or how ridiculous it was to assign ethnicity to a certain way of speaking, or that it could have been my classmates own insecurities that prompted the comment. All I knew, at 8 years old was how it made me feel; like an outsider, like I didn’t belong, like I wasn’t Black enough.

This type of commentary would continue through my whole life starting with that moment. My speech, from my inflection to my pronunciation, my skin tone, how I dressed, the…