In a World of Racial Discrimination, Size Does Matter
Maybe fear in others is a good thing especially when it’s the result of bullying.
I was picked on relentlessly when I was younger. Growing up Black in white suburbia, the bullying was, well… chef kiss. I didn’t just receive the garden-variety “early to late adolescent” harassment, I had the distinction of being the only Black kid in an all-white school, making me a frequent target. This dynamic made every day seem like going into battle with no weapons or ground support.
I learned very earlier on that my existence in such an environment meant the tormenting would continue as long as I dared occupy the same space as the majority.
As early as elementary school, the preferred flavor of harassment by kids was to target me because of my skin color. Arguably, it was innocent curiosity more so than malicious intent that motivated my peers at that time and age. “Why do you look like that?” “Why are you dirty?” “Does that come off?” “Why are you burnt?”
It wasn’t until middle school that this insidious curiosity pivot to more pointed, more personal attacks. At this age, kids were beginning to form social groups and learning the finer points of ostracizing those they deemed different.
There were those occasions when I would be targeted physically of course; a walk-by shove in the hall, tripped, or punched just for being Black. Though rare, I somehow managed to avoid these types of incidents given the overall frequency of torment I experienced throughout the day. The verbal assaults and hateful rhetoric that defined my early school years became commonplace but would eventually take a back seat once the tide shifted.
The best years of your life (or so they say)
By my junior year of high school, things begin to change for me socially. This was the year I shot up to over six feet tall. I had always been a larger kid so my new height had finally caught up to my, ahem… girth. I was now the tallest kid in my class and needless to say I looked quite different from the way I did the previous year and because of this, many took notice.
What became apparent right away was how I was treated, especially, by those who had previously used me for target practice. Miraculously the bullying halted and the collective attitude toward me on the part of my peers morphed into one of reluctant inclusion — a dynamic I did not expect, and one admittedly, I was unwilling to entertain.
Was this new treatment borne out of acceptance or because I now resembled a completely different person whom many perceived as imposing, or threatening thus implanting fear of retaliation due to past treatment? In a way, I was relieved to think perhaps it was the large Black male stereotype keeping at bay those targeted microaggressions that once plagued my days. I guess I was enjoying being left alone for the first time and being looked upon as someone not to mess with.
Though the bullying stopped, fear took its place, leaving a suspicious mind to do its bidding.
I recall one interaction in particular that solidified my new reality moving forward. In between periods when all the kids flooded the halls and stairwells hurrying to their next class, I passed an underclassman on the way up the stairs. He accidentally bumped into me, causing us both to turn and face one another. Once he realized who I was or perhaps acknowledged my size, he began his apology pitch. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, don’t hit me, I know you know Karate.” Honestly, I’m not sure where the Karate line came from but I remember him retreating down the stairs as quickly as possible.
For once it felt good not to be the recipient of a derogatory remark because of my appearance.
Upon graduation, I leaned comfortably into my 6’4” frame. As I started the next chapter in my young life, social encounters were becoming more diverse and meaningful. Once I got to college I was able to decompress and begin the much-anticipated journey to self-discovery and social acceptance. As my diversity pool began to deepen, the attitudes I once fielded by those in high school and earlier, were now a thing of the past and my new social interactions were genuine and not based on fear. There was a sense of community — one I had never felt before.
Generally, people were not threatened by my size and certainly not by my skin color. In fact, most related to similar experiences of being ostracized and often targeted by the majority community who felt they were inferior. They could relate. I could relate, and thus encounters with new people were easier to handle.
A reluctance to approach me by many in the white community still existed, however, at least for a time. I can’t say I paid much attention to this having been mistreated so often in the past because of my skin color.
Pick on someone your own size
The prejudice from a world of white supremacy has followed me most of my life. Of course, getting to the point when people (white people in particular) feel comfortable around me and actually take steps to get to know me, doesn’t typically happen. Most don’t take the time to do this, as they seem to be satisfied with perpetuating the stereotypes they formed long ago.
Perhaps it makes it easier for them to avoid the “possibility” — the possibility of accepting, or at the very least, be open-minded.
I have had to field all types of discrimination over the years. Being bullied when I was younger was only a precursor to the maltreatment I would receive in later years however the genetic weapon I carry with me every day is something that has proven to be an advantage, and disadvantage, all at the same time. My size has gotten me out of a few potential physical altercations, which certainly has provided a sense of relief. The drawback to this is how many perceive me, how my color, my gender, and my size help preserve a distorted fantasy many have cultivated in their minds of the unruly, and violent large Black thug waiting to harm them.
I can’t change my size or skin color nor would I want to. The bias by others that darkens my day is something I also cannot change.
My hope is that someday there will be less to no fear because of the way I look and how my community is perceived. It shouldn’t matter what size you are, and of course what color you are, especially, how it contributes to keeping one’s fear breathing.
Take it from someone who has run the gamut of being mistreated for years to being generally feared by a society in which they live. All we can do is take pride in who we are no matter how others perceive us and use this confidence to guide us throughout life. A little help along the way can’t hurt either.
Thank you for reading!
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