Imperfections of the American Dream By Lauren Bolton

My 16 years have been nothing short of confusing. 

I’m an imperfection in the neatly crafted American Dream.

I have never found a place where I fully fit in. 

I feel I’m not good enough for either side of my family and it seems my culture doesn’t view me as worthy. 

I can never say I fully belong to one side of my culture without feeling as though I’m letting my parents down.

I never knew I stood out as much as I do until a series of events showed me I am the neon sign that says: I’m mixed ask me about it!

When you live the life of a biracial person who happens to be Black and White you are told a series of things like: 

“Oh so you're like an Oreo”

“ Can you say the N-word?”

“ Do you celebrate Christmas and Kwanzaa?”

“ Wait that white lady who picks you up every day isn’t your adoptive mom?” 

“ Do you only celebrate half of Black History Month?” 

“You hang out with a lot of white people don’t you ?”

These questions didn’t bother me really and I would answer making sure I picked my words carefully because even though I’m mixed, I can’t speak with too many grammatical errors otherwise I’m trying to be from the hood but if my grammar is fine according to the ideological mind I’ve been whitewashed by society.

Let me break it down for everyone in Society who thinks being mixed makes me some exotic fruit.  

Don’t call me an Oreo because there is nothing sweet about the racism and stereotypes that have become my life. 

Don’t ask me to say the N-Word for you and hell, as a matter of fact, black people shouldn't even say it unless you know the deeply rooted hatred and brutality towards blacks that it was used against

Don’t ask me if I celebrate Kwanzaa because my answer is no I don’t… and I don’t know any black people who do 

And for the love of  Jesus Christ, I was not adopted, I came straight from my mother’s vagina and there are 3 huge baby albums in my house to prove that

Don’t ask me if I celebrate half of the one-month society has given Blacks because I will answer you: I’m mixed with black, I am as black as my father, as black as the night sky, as black as the slaves who were ripped apart from their families so they could work in field, as black as kids who get shot for wearing their hoods while walking home

It shouldn’t be hard for you to wrap your mind around the fact that being mixed is a real thing

Being a blend of races is a struggle but it’s also a privilege 

I experience two kinds of cultures and I will never choose just one 

I am a blend of  two races, two cultures, and two loving parents who support me no matter what

So yes I am mixed and it only took me 16 years to figure out that I will never fit into the mold that I am so desperately wanted in 

I have learned it’s okay to be that simple imperfection in this idea we call the American Dream