Fitting Someone Else’s Narrative Should Never Define You

No, I am not a basketball player, nor do I have a criminal record

My creative spirit spoke to me early in life. As someone who embraced the arts at a young age, I found ways to express myself through my creativity. I never gravitated toward organized sports or similar activities; though I do love to get horizontal on Sundays and watch a game or two.

My world often revolved around art, the intersection of intricate visual expression and fundamental emotion carried my attention all through my formative years. Music as well held me in its embrace early on; so much so, I closely identify with this art form; more than any other as the lifeblood of my existence.

Like many who reveal their true selves when practicing what makes them happy, we sometimes forget how others perceive us. That which is on the outside does not necessarily reflect, or embody what’s on the inside.

Being defined by a world more fascinated with outward representation, rather than at the core, who we are as human beings, our principal and authentic understanding of self can often be overshadowed by a superficial and judgmental cast.

Two worlds, one person

As a junior in high school I finally caught up to my height, and for those on the outside, the idea that I was anything other than a physical specimen put on this earth to only play a sport or entertain didn’t instill a feeling of self-worth. But then again, if you’re buying a ticket to see a game, do you really care if I have feelings?

It wasn’t until I was knee-deep into a career did I start to field inquiries that were more aligned with who I am as a person. Prior to this, I was never asked; “what do you do?” It was assumed I either played a sport or spent my days as a shift worker in the service industry. No shade here, just the types of bias inference that I would regularly receive as a young Black male. Never has an inquiry of occupation gone past my appearance, my height — someone’s bias. An initial discussion where a sharing of ideas or viewpoints could influence an educated query about a career was usually left at the table for a more visceral assumption leading to an indifferent or convenient line of questioning.

“You must play basketball.” Not, “do you play basketball?” Was this inquiry solely because of my height, perhaps? Though looking closer at how many in the white community associate Black people only with sport, or entertainment, or crime, never have I been mistaken for someone who dabbled in academia, the world of medicine, or the arts for that matter.

We must not allow other people’s limited perceptions to define us. — Virginia Satir

Assumptions of this ilk typically ran the gamut of “You’re into hip hop, right?” — classic categorizing of young Black people who must only love hip hop music, to “I have a friend who you’d get along with.” As though I needed a rent-a-friend sponsor to guide me through life’s relationships. Of course, the latter more often than not was a way to group me with other Black people for, I guess, batching like-skinned folks together as if we were a monolith and could not exist without being in the company of our own kind.

It all makes it easier for some to put people in a box.

It is exhausting keeping up the fight; having to correct, address, reverse, or counter the narrative placed upon you every day of your life. This is the reality of being Black in a country that sees you a certain way.

Not every person reserves these proclivities for convenience, mind you, however, many simply see people, not for who they are, but for what their subconscious wants them to be.

Attack the crease

Growing up Black in the ‘burbs doesn’t come without constant ducking for cover while plowing through everyday living. As a young brother exposed to a similar environment as I, my son is well versed in “surviving the ‘burbs while Black.”

He, being more athletic than his old man, saw his fair share of this in the world of high school sports — a microcosm of society with its own set of norms.

After a typical high school lacrosse game when parents and “hangers-on” congregate at the field’s edge to welcome their offspring, dynamics among families often comprised high emotion or insidious exchange, fermenting especially if a loss is at hand.

I recall a visibly agitated mother ask my son (the only Black kid on the team) if he played basketball as if it was because of his poor performance that resulted in the team losing.

He was standing right next to the tallest member of the team, a white kid who was conveniently spared from this wonderfully executed inquiry. My son, a bit perplexed at the offensive question, offered a typical “snarky” teen response: “no, I play lacrosse.”

He took the words right out of my mouth.

At the time I wasn’t sure why this woman avoided asking the taller teammate if he played basketball. My guess is he didn’t fit her idea of what a typical basketball player resembled in her mind — Black. I remember logging this exchange into my memory for later replay in an effort to understand future misguided assumptions; as these experiences would frequently find their way into either my, or my son’s orbit.

Without knowing who someone is or where their interests lie, perceptions like these by others typically reflect their narrowed worldview.

Thoughts of a Black person being anything other than an athlete, or in some cases a criminal, don’t often reach their forebrain.

This is a narrative many choose to run with at the expense of the Black community, and it is very dangerous.

Life isn’t all unicorns and rainbows

When you are Black in a white space, you are often looked at as a unicorn in the wild; suspicious minds treating you as though your presence is bewilderment. An object used to satisfy curiosity, present only to be a subject of inquisition.

The larger, more universal perception of the Black community, in this country especially, is entrenched in the internal doctrine by those who view us. This leads to unprecedented prejudice laced and based on bias.

People see what they want to see and what people want to see never has anything to do with the truth. — Roberto Bolaño

Why take the convenient approach in labeling people? Is this out of laziness or indifference? Perhaps both. If your goal is to feed a curiosity without a genuine interest in knowing someone or who they are, what is the purpose?

Why bother?

Placing people in an identity box to make life easier to categorize, and in some cases, marginalize, might be convenient but ultimately perpetuates prejudice, fueling a false narrative.

My claim to fame has never been my athletic prowess (or lack thereof) but how I could put my creativity into practice. From music school then later art school, the path I paved for myself set up a life where self-expression drove my purpose for living and to construct a mindful foundation in which to develop and grow. This is what I put out to the world.

Life is not convenient (for anyone). It has to be worked at, carefully cultivated, massaged enough for a positive outcome. If life were easy, we would all taste the sweet nectar of impartiality.

The burden of misperception based on oppression does not help matters.

A moment in time is all we get. For some, it is a blink of an eye. For others it’s enough to write a story, creating new and exciting experiences that shape who we are.

Those who choose to ghostwrite our stories — this is the great tragedy that comes with living while Black in America.

Thank you for reading!

Follow me on Twitter: @gcorreiawrites