Confessions of a White Passing Black Woman by Marin Terry

As a mixed white-passing woman, I was never entirely sure I could call myself black. Technically speaking, I am. It’s literally in my DNA,  but hundreds of people have told me otherwise. That I don't, “sound black”, “look black”, or “act black”, whatever that means. Today, though, I am positive of my identity as a young black woman. I am black because every day I worry about my dad being the next black man to be shot. That one-day I’ll wake up and there will be a post saying, “Justice for Mark Terry”. I am black because taking a jog down the street at night could result in my death. I am black because I don’t have the luxury of just posting about George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Trayvon Martin, emerald black, and the rest of my brothers and sisters being slaughtered and injured daily. No. I have to live this nightmare. It is an odd feeling though.

My life is not in immediate danger. I don’t have dark skin, but I don’t have pearly white skin either. It’s one big sick guessing game of, “What am I?” which can be translated, in our society to, “Does my life matter?”. Do I preach openly about the systematic oppression against black people in America, or do I follow the white crowd and post things like “I don’t understand, but I stand with you”?.

The latter is an obvious lie- but it’s a lie that will stop me from being attacked by every color of the rainbow. It’s a sad and shameful thought that I've considered just passing. I understand its an incredible privilege to do so, but it’s one that I've vowed never to use. Being a teen, coming to realize oneself would be difficult even out of this turbulent environment so growing up in our world right now is infinitely more difficult. My whole life I have been pulled in two different directions, never choosing because of discomfort or feeling as though I don’t fully belong. I realize now to be black is to not check off all the right boxes. It is to relate in a way that many others cannot. It is to be held down by something that cannot be changed. Everything besides that, is just extras. This piece is less of an “article” and more of a confession. My name is Marin Terry and I am a young black woman. I stand with my brothers and sisters and I will not stop until

Trayvon Martin

Tamir Rice

Micheal Brown

Eric Garner

Philando Castile

Breonna Taylor 

George Floyd

Justin Howell

Sean Monterrosa

And every other victim of police brutality can rest knowing that justice was served.