by Linda CheriyanI remember laughter filling the hallways as kids laughed when I looked a little too ethnic.
I remember I held pride in wearing my cultural clothes, but not long after being bullied. People felt terrified to sit next to me because of their lack of knowledge, which led them to thinking; I was a terrorist due to the color of my skin and clothes. I remember wearing a cross visible for my entire school to see to prove that I was not Muslim. I did it in hopes to gain friends so I didn’t have to sit alone once again. I remember the white girl wore the salwar kameez and was praised for how “beautiful” she looked. I remember I brought Indian food to school Because I have not yet accustomed to American food, This to my tongue tasted of flavorless boiled chicken with no spices. Of course the kids made fun of me for that too, The smell of curry wasn’t too pleasing to their non-ethnic noses, And told me I smelled like the nasty food. So I had to force myself to get used to the tasteless chicken served in the cafeteria, So once again I wouldn’t have to sit alone. I remember kids laughing at the color of my skin Because I was too dark for their colorless eyes and I remember shutting myself in the bathroom doors and crying why I wasn’t made pale and “beautiful” I remember searching on Google “homemade remedies to make your skin lighter” Came out with millions of searches and thought wow I’m not alone But not thinking we were all brainwashed by the false portrayal of beauty Which is all centered on the Eurocentric values that white men have created. None of the remedies worked and felt the need to get the stain of my skin. Ironic how they go to tanning salons to be the color I was born with. I remember wanting to educate people about my culture But I was not able to find the words to. I was quickly silenced and said to pay attention to the fake history that was being taught in my history classes. I remember hoping one day I will find the voice to speak out against the lies Hoping I will one day be able to re-introduce myself to my own culture It feels as if that hopeful day had finally come, Where I have learned to appreciate my beautiful skin tone and Where I understood my culture is truly something special to me Where the hues of culture are more appealing than the colorless society I’m surrounded by. Even though it came to me, I seem to be stuck in a world that still doesn’t see.
4 Comments
K.A.
3/9/2017 06:49:30 pm
Dope!
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Gloria
3/9/2017 09:54:57 pm
Very relatable and enjoyable. Well done Linda!
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Sanjay
3/10/2017 04:47:36 am
Omg! Well said 👍
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A.K
3/10/2017 05:19:58 am
Powerful and touching
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