When I Was Growing
Tara Guillaume
2020
Chicago, IL, USA
When I Was Growing
After Nellie Wong
I know now that I once longed to be white.
How? You ask.
Let me tell you the ways.
It’s in the constant straightening and burning of my hair.
I believed that the kinks made me less than.
I could not casually flip my hair and run my fingers through it.
My ancestors made me ugly.
When I was growing up, I was proud people complimented my grammar.
It meant that I was like them.
I was one of the good blacks.
I didn’t see the racism in that.
To be good meant to be white.
When I was growing up, I was scared to bring my own lunch.
I begged my mom for sandwiches.
No rice and beans.
No plantains.
No salade russe.
I remember when a PTA mom asked me why I didn’t like bananas if I was from the islands.
Following it up with a question as to if I swam to get here.
Homogeneity only applied to me and my people.
I stand out with my black skin.
Let me blend in the lunchroom.
When I was growing up, people would tell me I was pretty.
I wondered if they meant pretty for a black girl.
I wondered if Bobby could ever look at me the way he looked at Shelley.
Or why white people always made it a chore to compliment me but not each other.
Why did they think I needed the extra boost?
I know now that I once longed to be white.
How many more ways? You ask. Haven’t I told you enough?
This poem was inspired by Nellie Wong. While reading her work it dawned on me that I had very similar experiences. I began to wonder if this is a universal thing and feeling that all women of color feel and that we never put into words or pathologize. I always knew I felt less than as a kid but I was never sure why until I went to high school and was surrounded by more people who look like me. Why did I feel the need to compete with everyone? Was it even a competition when I was trying to make it work in an environment that was not built for me? I loved writing this poem more than any other one. It felt like a catharsis. All the thoughts I’ve been wanting to say for a long time finally spilled out. Moving to this country at such a young age and living in a predominantly white area it took me a while to separate myself from all the subtle ways of bullying I got and grow into the person I am today (the kind of person who reads anthologies written by women of color). While this was a sad start to my childhood, It is also a celebration of my adulthood! No longer am I this sad little girl who feels the need to mold herself to the masses. I am proud of the experiences I faced and no longer have to worry about today.
Tara Guillaume