We Are All Human

This post is dedicated to the 49 victims of the Pulse shooting, Alton Sterling of Baton Rouge, Philando Castile of St. Paul, MN, the 5 police officers in Dallas, and countless other innocent people who lost their lives simply because they were different from "mainstream America". 

I was scrolling through Facebook on the night of Saturday, July 16th and came across an article on Elite Daily titled, "5 Reasons I'd Rather Be Behind the Scenes than in the Spotlight" and it reminded me of an event that had occurred earlier that afternoon.

I'm horrible at accepting compliments and those of you who know me well enough can attest to that. I find the ones that I don't see coming to be the easier ones to accept. And last week, I got one I really wasn't expecting whatsoever.

The show I've been working on had its performance that afternoon. After it was over, one of our newer cast members came up to me and said, "I find you to be a crazy interesting person for doing this. It takes a lot to be comfortable sitting here day in and day out listening to this. It really says a lot about who you are and that's an amazing thing."

Naturally, when someone uses the word crazy in a good way to describe me, my first thought is, well really I'm just plain crazy. Anyway, I said thank you and the two of us began to have a conversation on the subject as he helped me pack up the rest of my stuff.

To provide some context for those of you who don't already know, I'm working for a theatre company that is predominately Black, and I am currently the only white person on the production team. Our show focuses on addressing race and class issues facing America today. It's a tough subject, especially with the recent tragedies that have occurred.

Now, I've never seen anyone by the color of their skin or physical appearances. Even  as a freshman in high school when my mom couldn't remember the name of a friend on my Relay for Life team, and in order to clarify who she was speaking about, said to me, "the black girl", my immediate response was who? It took me a good few minutes of thinking who the heck is she talking about? and mentally listing off all the names of the people on my team before I finally figured out who my mom was referring to. My mom wasn't being racist and certainly had no intention of offending someone, she was simply pointing out a defining feature for my friend, not realizing that what set my friend Kiara* apart from the others in my group wasn't something I had ever seen her as. To me she was Kiara, not "the black girl".

My point for telling this story relates back to the theatre company because it never occurs to me that I'm the only "white face" in rehearsals and the performances until it's pointed out. I forget that most people who look like me could not sit in a room full of Black people and be completely calm, cool, and collected. I forget that the stories and conversations I listen to on a regular basis would make even the most compassionate of white people uncomfortable and antsy.

When I'm reminded of this I always wonder, how is this possible? How is it that I, a white girl from suburban Pennsylvania with an ignorant mother and older brother, who on more than one occasion has said something offensive, accept people from all walks of life without so much of a hesitation or second thought? How is that others like me can't wait to throw people with differences under the bus? How is it so hard for people to comprehend that it doesn't matter what you look like or whether you're attracted to men or women? We are all created from the same two biological components: a female egg and a male sperm. We are all human. It doesn't matter whether we're black, white, brown, male, female, gay, or straight, and on an on and on for infinity. We are all human. We cannot forget that. Once we forget that, we're doomed, and the world will be sure to go to hell. Remember that we are all human and life for everyone will be a bit brighter.

Love always,

Jazmine


*name changed to protect privacy