So... I was shot-gunning a cigarette with a gay guy named Joe as we were sitting in a local bar that was popular in the gay community, and I was quite relaxed. I have always been comfortable with gay people. I would later learn that for a portion of my young life I was “gender fluid” ... Neither of the labels of “boy” or “girl” seemed right to me then, though I identify as female (she/her) now. It wasn’t something I struggled with or anything.
As I sat there in the bar surrounded by people I barely knew (most not at all), it was the first time in years that I felt like I was in my element. I wasn’t even drunk (yet) but I was very much enjoying my cold beverages and the new people I was meeting. I just felt free. Joe was a friend of a friend, and he and I hit it off and were engaged in light conversation. At some point, I mentioned that I have always been comfortable with gay people and that I didn’t understand why other people had such a problem with it. He smiled and said, “It’s because you are a person who has spent their life wanting to be accepted for who you are, so you automatically accept others as they are.” I hadn’t thought of it that way. I wasn’t even fully aware of the fact that I desired acceptance. I have always just been unapologetically “me”.
I was a product of my upbringing. My parents had always delivered a message of love for others. They were missionaries. I found it fascinating that I was raised in a community in which many members vilified the very people who accepted me based solely on who I am. Being a multiracial child in the 80’s was tricky depending on the country you lived in. I grew up in the Caribbean and fit right in with the other kids and race wasn’t something that came up that I was aware of. I was just me, without the influences of American views on whether I was black enough, or not white enough (and that is two very different things coming from the people on both ends of the color spectrum). I was a teen the first time I was asked if I considered myself black or white. Quite frankly, I wasn’t aware
States for a year, was segregated - Seemingly by choice. I split the difference and sat with the weirdos... mostly because they were the most interesting people who fit in everywhere and nowhere. In hindsight I realize that they were like me in that regard.
As time went on, I would learn that the race thing mattered to a lot of people, but it is only recently that it has come to matter to me...but not in the same way it does to other people. I have slowly over time come to be aware of how deep racism runs in society. I’m appalled, saddened and stunned by the scope of it. I was ignorant of how far we HAVEN’T come. I find myself in a unique position of being an outsider and insider at the same time. I’m learning... and what I learn, I apply and freely pass along.
The father of my daughter is a white man. His family hated me for my skin color, and eventually he did too. When we divorced, he and his family told my daughter, who looks white, to never let anyone know she is part black. She’s is an adult now and declares her ethnicity with pride. She’s learning right along with me and we are exploring what it means to be ALL that we are, together. She is also pansexual and has autism. The beauty of it is that we are living in a time where it is getting safer to be our authentic selves with most people. Aside from being multiracial, a mom, and a daughter, I am also a wife, a mentor, and a connoisseur of pimple popping videos. Yep! I said it!
It turns out everyone is looking for acceptance. It’s universal when it comes right down to it, so, let your freak flags fly! I grew up straddling two races, two cultures, two social groups... and for a time, two realities -what I thought the world was supposed to be, and the way the world actually is. And that’s ok. I learned that I don’t have to be one or the other in order to be me...
I met Joe in 1999, and he was living in the closet for the most part because he was a 6th grade school teacher... in Oklahoma. He knew a lot about acceptance. I never saw him again, but still claim him as a friend and I mark that night as the time when I became a conscious ally for civil rights for EVERYONE.
“And the powerful play goes on that we may contribute a verse.” My verse begins with, “Hello. I’m Abanna Cheshire, and I am a Blended American... and totally mental.”