I remember when I moved to the southside of Chicago into the Beverly area when I was 9. I had honestly only seen white people on television. Or maybe the grocery store if I was out of my neighborhood. I had heard about them through school, media and the backhanded compliments from my elders, but I had never really been around them. I’m from 21st Place, there wasn’t any white people in K-town lol. This world was completely new to me. I was able to walk around without as many worries. Played outside all day that shit was crazy. My mother didn’t let me do that in the places we lived. It was different…

Sidenote: Inside my home, I always had an eclectic upbringing. It wasn’t all hip hop & r&b played in my house. I have been listening to rock and Frank Sinatra since I was small. I just never got to be around those type of people. The exposure to wide spread pop culture made me who I am today.

Then I made friends…

I was the only African American kid on my block. Having interracial friendships was my only option. Not to say I was afraid of other races, I just didn’t know anything about them. All I knew was how fucked up my household was. I loved being around these different people. NOTHING was done the same at my friends houses. I legitimately hated having to go home sometimes. Then there were those uncomfortable moments, where I had to explain things like eating Ramen Noodles and hot dogs everyday…or what it was like to have had roaches. I wanted to hide it. Being in their giant (to me at least) houses, and being welcome made me feel like I was an equal which I really wasn’t. I’m just a broke kid who got lucky.

I wasn’t from here. I didn’t belong here. I just didn’t fit in, yet I was accepted by people who didn’t know me at all or where I was from. Yet the other African Americans in this neighborhood looked down on me. They were very unwelcoming. I still don’t know why really. Maybe because they had been living in this area already? Didn’t know much about people like us? Shit…they were whiter than me lol. Although I’ve been told that I talk “white” my whole life. They KNEW what they were doing and how they acted. It was on purpose. I was just…being me. I was made fun of more by other African Americans than by Caucasians. My friends teased me a bit, about being the token black kid. The “white” black kid lol. There was still acceptance though, something that I didn’t get from my own people…