My Philosophy on Racism

At the end of the day when the hot seat subject was "the racist act you done to someone" I was inching to speak because I felt throughout the day the term "racism" was confused with bigotry prejudice and maybe ( a term I'll coin right here) racial bias, all of which are byproducts of racism. I didn't believe anyone in the room had the power to perform a "racist" act. thats because I define the term "racism" differently than the establishment does. because the establishment is inherently racist any definition of the term "racism" that comes from them will be tainted with an agenda to maintain racism. so lets play a word game
rac(e)-ism I look at as it akin to capital-ism, social-ism, commun-ism, even Buddh(a)-ism or Juda-ism, its a belief or doctrine. I'll quote dictionary.com for a definition because I believe its apt:

( http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/racism )

racism is:
"a belief or doctrine that inherent differences among the various human races determine cultural or individual achievement, usually involving the idea that one's own race is superior and has the right to rule others."

so let me put myself back on the hot seat; when did I perform a racist act on someone?
honestly, I don't think I ever have but let me tell you a story:
In early elementary school when I moved back with my mom after a long story. (grade 3 ) Because of my light complexion and African features and hair there was a debate going on between my classmates: is Michael black or white? this girl (black girl with dark complexion, who I later found out had a crush on me) would say "he's white" and I hated hearing that, (this was just after my mom told me my dad was black, from Jamaica) the other kids would say naw "he's black, he's both, he's mixed" a light skinned girl would always put her arm next to mine we were just about the same complexion but I was the new kid so I got the slack. I just wanted to put this debate to an end I wish it didn't matter but it did, I didn't want to be considered white. When it was time to show of my speed in track I wooped everybody hard!!! high jump, long jump, you name it I was a track superstar I won relay at the big meets I was so good that I got invited to special meet but my schedual started at 9am. I had to compete in:

100 meters
75 meter hurdles
400 meters
long jump
high jump
triple jump

and I was in grade 5!!! fuck that the debate was over and dead so I didn't bother with killing myself to impress my coach (who was black).
but I naturally loved basketball and I was good. I played with style a "streetballer". When "White man can't jump came out" I was a leaper swatting anything in the paint grabbing boards over everyone and I did it in STYLE!!!!! I made people look stupid. I was dunking 10 feet rims with two hands off a vertical at the age of 15. But I never joined the team cause I saw how teachers would tell kids "if you don't go to class now your off the team" I was like ha, fuck dat I ain't giving'em that kind of leverage, ain't nobody making the NBA so I'd rather smoke my weed and freestlyle. So the best baller in the school didn't play on the team. I smoked the most weed of my life in high school but on the real we were disciplined. After every spliff we would freestyle, weed was way to get extra creative and I tore it up!!! I spit (rap) fire to right up until now.

One day me and my friends were at my apartment freestyling (my mom was "cool" so my place was the spot even on national skip off day) and we were dropping the "N" bomb all over the place when my mom burst into my room in tears "I hate that word!!!!, I hate it!, I hate it!." me and my friends were shocked I mean my mom was cool with everything I swore in front her, (not at her) she knew I smoked weed, but after that, the "N" bomb was never used in my house again until I was older and I used it in political context (rarely). That was the beginning of her opening up to me about her past growing up in england.

The best way to describe my mom is that she looked like Maria Carry (when my mom was young that is) with blue eyes and nappy hair but while I was growing up she straightened it just cause thats the style she wanted, So I never knew that my mom went through hard racism and bigotry until I was at an age where she felt I could grasp it. Up until that time I thought I was "half black". Racism is what makes me black. On the real my skin color is light brown or beige but I will take offense to anyone who tries to Willie Lynch me into thinking that I'm not black. I have to carry the burden of being born into a family thats completely shattered because no one would raise my half breed grandma except nuns in an orphanage, and when she came of age she had to work as a live in servant and people begrudged paying her so she had to move 27 times where her daughter (my mother) who was greeted everyday at school with "nigger" isolation and discrimination. I have to carry the burden of my mom's mental illness due to the fact that she was confused about who she was constantly hearing things like " I never knew niggers could have blue eyes". This is what makes me black

so thinking that running fast, jumping high, playing ball with style, spitten that hot freestyle, growing up in "da hood", rollen with my flag, cutting class and ignoring university would keep that debate thats been dead since grade 3 from resurrecting, is the racist act I committed against myself.


Poster_Child