Every morning, I find myself walking to class listening to my favorite songs, watching squirrels as they finesse food from passersby and moving around white people walking in my direction on the sidewalks.
When I was younger, being Black and Nigerian never caused me any problems. I grew up in a fairly diverse town and school district. Throughout elementary school, I had friends of multiple races and ethnicities.
Last week, I was in an argument. Although no punches were thrown, I felt like I got slapped in the face a few times, but I thought I did the best I could. Even though I was ducking and weaving through the racist rhetoric, it still felt like I got my ass beat.
Imagine this: It’s a Sunday afternoon and you’re on your way home for the evening. To your annoyance, the route you normally take has more traffic than normal. Initially, the bumper-to-bumper backup is inching along, but it quickly grinds to a complete halt.