Scorned

I grew up in Lagos, Nigeria. My neighbours were black, my teachers were black, my friends were black, the President was black, everyone was black. I am black. And yet of significance is the fact that because everyone was black, no one was black. Having dark skin was synonymous with having two eyes, or a nose, or a liver or a lung. It was one of several, several characteristics of being human. It didn't matter. It was inconsequential. I grew up believing this.

Fast forward to 2009, and I was a 17 year old girl entering the United States for the first time. There were several things I was naive about; race was one of them. I was quickly buffeted with information and opinions and a whole history that I had been previously mostly unaware of. Films and books and television had talked about racism, but it had always remained a distant, far-removed concept, one as foreign to me as -3 degrees weather and nasal accents I had difficulty understanding. But it was important that I understand, and that I inform myself quickly about the history of the United States. Because I now live in America, along with all the brilliant things about being in this country, the realization that I am black is of consequence. It means that, for some illogical reason, I am different, something more, or less, than was meant when I was home. It is a realization that shocked me then, and that I continue to grapple with always.

Since 2009, I've had several conversations about race. I've taken classes and read journals, I've written responses and listened to lectures; I've worked hard to educate myself. Yet I do not think that I've fully understood what racism is, what it feels like, until today. I have never felt as personally attacked or aggrieved, as entirely victimized and hurt as I do today. An individual, or group of individuals, has targeted another group of individuals over something they have not done, that they have no control over, that should not matter, something that has been entirely constructed over and over again by people who were ignorant or prejudiced or hateful. This is a reality that we must live with. It is infuriating, it is terrifying and it is hurtful. It makes me wonder about the country I now reside in.

More importantly, however, this incidence makes me realize that educating oneself on issues of race is not enough. I have spent the last three years at Oberlin silently paying attention to occurrences on campus, but never getting involved. I have sat idly by. I have listened. Listening is not enough. Action and solidarity are important. We must speak out against all hate, we must revolt against those who try to fragment our community, we must work hard for our happiness. I stand in solidarity with all who feel victimized by the occurrences on campus. I stand against all individuals who target me and people like me because we are a minority. I stand with the rest of Oberlin as we defend the principles this college represents.

Enough is enough.
Written by: Olive Nwosu