Not Enough: Being Black In Modern Day USA

I am told that I am not enough sometimes. I am told I am not black enough, not strong enough, not hardworking enough, not loving enough, and not woman enough. How you someone tell another human being that. How do you know? However, my enough life I had to live up to others expectations. As a child, you are told if you set your mind to something you can always achieve. They never said poverty. They never said being broke. They never said earning a degree and still cannot get a full time job. People presume to tell me how I should wear my hair, how I should dress, how I should speak, and how I should do things. It gets to me sometimes, but I cannot be something I am not. I will lose my identity in the process.

I am an outsider. I am cast out to the side and I fend for myself. I had to learn to live with it. People denied every part of me until there is nothing left. Now let’s talk about my hair. I think a woman can wear their hair any way they choose. You should not be judged by the way you look. My hair was never enough. I didn’t start straightening my hair until I was 14 or 15 years old. My hair was never straight enough. It was considered too nappy. Even then, it wasn’t curly enough, or good enough. Certain places do not allow natural hairstyles. Some schools, for example, Hampton University’s business program does not allow men to have dreadlocks. Black hair is not suitable or worthy enough for white America. Right? No, wrong?

I do not touch on a lot of issues, because I have become blunt about what I am passionate about. Either no one will listen or someone will and judge every part of my existence. People will get angry or upset and want to retaliate. To be good enough is like trying to break through The Great Wall of China. It makes no sense that black people have to struggle so much. You tell us that we are always on the street, but when we apply for work, you tell us we aren’t good enough. There seems to be no peaceful hiding place or a world of acceptance. As black people, we are killed, injured, hungry, homeless, broke, alone, and they wonder why we do the things we do. We are not given a chance. I feel like I am not accepted. I am not woman enough, not thin enough, and not sexual enough. I guess that is why we focus so much on our appearance, just to give up some sort of confidence. The worst thing a woman can say, especially a black woman, is that she does not want children. When someone makes up his or her mind, it is deemed a sin or an abomination. It is too much! We should be aloud to make our own choices without be looked at and judged. I would cry, but my tears are not enough. I would scream, but I wouldn’t be loud enough. Then, religion has to play a role. Black people either are full of hope or slowly loosing it. At the same time, we attack our own. I have to recognize my own pain. I reject everything wrong in society and created my own thing. We have to fed for ourselves.

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