Personal Narrative: My Life As An African American

Although I, my parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, and previous generations were born in the United States; being an involuntary immigrant is something that has always crossed my mind since I was a young child. I always wondered what life would be like now if our ancestors were never taken from our home and brought to “America”, but what African American hasn’t. Growing up a young African American female with sickle cell anemia I’ve encountered several socio-cultural dynamic situations. As a child, my parents somewhat sheltered me from the reality and negativity of the world, partly because I would be too young to understand, and because they wanted me to make my own decisions. I went to an elementary school that was predominantly black,

I didn’t really click to a certain group of people I was friendly to everyone and got along with people pretty well regardless. Until one year, I had become pretty close to one of the most popular white girls in the school. She was genuinely nice to me; we bought each other Christmas presents and everything. I had never considered her race until I noticed how she and her white friends would get away things that anybody else would get in trouble for. At first glance it didn’t really bother me, it was unfair, but I never thought much of it until one of my black friends showed me how consistent it had become. It was teacher appreciation week, and the parents brought in special desserts for the teacher only. However, my white friend and her group of friends got some of the desserts too. This event happened and that was when the concept of white privilege actually sunk into my head. I don’t want to say I was naïve; things just didn’t seem to bother me the way it bothered the other kids who looked like me. I had let race begin to consume my mind and felt that what was happening was unfair, and begin to take it out on my white best friend. I got so jealous, angry, and frustrated that we eventually stopped being friends. My view of the world had forever changed since that one moment in middle school. I began to stop