Читать книгу Black Card - Chris L Terry - Страница 12

THREE

My lips are full, my nose is broad, and my hair’s a cloud of cinnamon. Usually, black people can tell that I’m black, because we know how to find each other in an unfriendly world. But white people see my green eyes and freckles and assume I’m white. They live in a world where they are the norm. Why would they expect me to be anything but?

Still, there’s something about the way I look that gets black and white people to try to place me. This leads to what I call the “You Look Like” Game, where they explain my existence to themselves by telling me I look like someone else. The more they decide, the less control I have over my own personality.

Here are the “You Look Like” Game’s top scorers:

Kid from Kid ’n Play

The light-skinned guy from a fun early ’90s rap duo that did synchronized dances and starred in some movies that still pop up on cable. He was famous for his high-top fade, a cylinder of hair rising nine inches off the top of his head. He’s also a mixed brother, and basically my color.

The good part about being told I look like Kid is that people love Kid ’n Play. No one’s ever said, “You look like Kid ’n Play. I wanna fight those fools.”

On the downside, I think white people are into old-school black stuff like Kid ’n Play because it’s from the past, and can’t change anything right now.

Embarrassing fun fact: I can’t grab my ankle and jump over my leg to do Kid ’n Play’s trademark dance.

Justin Timberlake

He’s straight-up white, but has curly ramen hair, which I guess is where we sorta link up. He’s also a great dancer with hit songs for days. I actually get called “Timberlake” a lot by black people, but mainly associate it with drunk white girls pushing up on me at dance parties. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, and I’m jealous of how much black people like J.T.

Lenny Kravitz

He’s handsome, half Jewish and half black, and dresses like he’s from the ’70s—he probably has a whole shelf just for the leather vests he wears with no shirt. We look nothing alike. This one bugs me. Out loud, I say it’s because his music is bland and unoriginal. Truth is, I’m mad because he’s beating me at my own game: he’s got a better music career, money for cool vintage clothes, he looks blacker than me, and a couple of his songs are pretty ill.

“This light-skinned cat useta work with my sister at the supermarket”

This one’s followed by an expectant look, like I should know the name of this random high-yella cashier. But not all mixed people know each other. We don’t have brown bag parties where we listen to smooth r’n’b and make jokes about people working all day in the field. Sometimes I wish we did, though. Then I’d have someone to talk to about this stuff without feeling like a stereotypical halfie having an identity crisis.

Getting called “light-skinned” is a blessing and a curse, though. It’s cool because it means I’m black, just paler than the average black person. Since being mistaken for white erases half of me, and happens so often that I think I’ve failed at blackness, I cherish being called black. Still, it also makes me feel like I have to reject my white side. That’s why I feel guilty for loving punk rock.