Self-Reflections

Black & White

Who Are We?

Some would think that this would be my easiest semester since it is my last. However, moving into the second week of studies it is proving to be my hardest. Not academically...rather psychologically. All of my classes involve interactions with different cultures, ethnics, religions, philosophies,-people. (Cough, cough says the introverted biracial mid-twenties girl living in America)

Being a Christian, I solely believe that we are supposed to be all inclusive. But what does that look like in my daily life? I am finding that despite my grasp on what some would say "my religion,” that rather the small town in Illinois that I grew up in has more influence on me than I would like to admit. I am undeniably learning how to be humble in ways I did not think where necessary. A.K.A: this is Samantha waking up to the world of Social Work.

It seems like every little thing I do or say can/could be offense to someone. Should I be afraid of this? Why or why not? Doesn't the Bible teach that we should not live to please man (Gal. 1, emp. vrs 10.)But where does God's grace fit in? Doesn't He desire everyone to know Him- Jesus? (2 Peter 3, emp vrs 9) But then where does love...true love that comes with discipline/correction...come in? (Hebrews 12). I am not just facing this conundrum as a student going to a commuter university downtown Denver, but as someone who desires to work in the missionary field…i.e India.

Does anyone have the right ways? The right steps? The right theories and approaches? Is it always just “black & white?” Or it is mainly always “the middle ground?” How does one effectively not just live in “peace”, but minister to someone who is 100% different than themselves and not take away from that other party but respectively add to the other person’s way of life?

Speaking of “black & white”…I have never really spoken of this much but this too may soon change. For those who do not know me I am both black and white. I guess I could say “African-American” and “Caucasian.” Yet, all I really know is the “white” side of life. I have a black father. But for those who also do not know, I have never met my biological father. I have had one man in my life who has been there since day one. I now call him Dad. He is African-American. Despite this inclusion, I do not know…truly know my roots. Thus, I was the “black” kid in my family. I often forget that I am “of color”…but these last few years of living in Denver with an African-American elderly woman, I have been more aware of exactly who I am.

There were times when I was just a child I wished/prayed I was white so I would fit in more, sure…I have always hated my afro-frizzy hair, yes. But as much as tried to fit in with everybody, it seemed that I most excluded from the “black” kids. Even this summer when I did an internship in Raleigh, NC my coworkers (all black or Hispanic) referred to me as “the light-skinned girl.” I have come to understand that this “middle-ground” battle is nothing new for people like me.

Will this tension ever dissolve? Both internally and spiritually? I don’t know. Just like the question that we debated in my Community Change class yesterday, is collaboration the ultimate answer/solution to everything. I don’t know.

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