The Whitest Black Guy I Know
Several times in my professional DJ life at parties and clubs, more so from black people than anyone else, I was given that title. Every time, I would ask, “Why do you say I’m more white than black?” and fellow African Americans (young & old) would respond, “Well, you speak proper English and sound so intelligent.” This repeated response has occurred as recently as a week ago. One night when I arrived at a party to DJ, an older Caucasian female associate shouted, “Hey look, it’s the whitest black guy I’ve ever met!” I responded, “I’m very black. I’m just not ‘ghetto’. Maybe you find difficulty (like many others in the aforementioned experiences), in seeing the difference between those two descriptors.” She stood there confused with nothing more to say. For many years, I questioned my “blackness” and would often challenge people to prove that I could, in fact, “talk black”. I would try variations of my everyday dialect to no avail, but when I added an aggressive angry cadence, they said, “That’s it! Now you sound black.” At that moment, an obvious miniscule cultural detail turned into a revelation for me. All those times I was laughed at for not being able to imitate the sound and appearance of a real “black male” was because I couldn’t cut through the joy and childlike innocence engrained in my being. Now that I’m older, stronger, and (hopefully) wiser, I whole-heartedly know that I’m extremely blessed to be who I’ve become (in Christ), through the real Truth that was intercepted by the enemy for so long.