How Do I Know if I’m Really Black?

I could do a top ten list. I could stand next to someone and compare my skin tone and hair texture. I could look at my parents, the neighborhood where I grew up, and where I went to school. Or I could look in the mirror.

According to certain people, none of those actions matter if I don’t "keep it real", so depending who you ask, I am a suspicious case.

My people have a lot of issues regarding our collective self-image. We recognize that for the most part, black people are complex, just like white people. We are contradictory–we sometimes say one thing and mean something else entirely. We have strange relationships. We embrace our heritage, but then we sometimes run from it. We constantly strive to be more than how we are defined by the mainstream culture, yet we sometimes prefer those definitions in determining our comfort levels with each other. We abhor racism and discrimination, yet we also practice it.

So, just like white folks (and everybody else on the planet), we are human.

I initially planned to write about the drama taking place in Philly over the Eagles, but then I decided that the real conflict is not concentrated there, but it is anywhere black people live, work, play, worship, etc. This is a universal concern–who are we?

I’ve been upset by the forgiveness Terrell Owens has received from certain black leaders. I am offended by the criticism Donovan McNabb has received from some of the same folks. In our zeal to display "unity", we are quick to forgive some of our brethren for major transgressions, yet we are reluctant to understand others whose only sin is difference. This is the Colin Powell/Condoleeza Rice problem–these are the most powerful black people in the world, but we miss that because we are too busy hating on them for their political affiliation.

I harped on this same issue the other day when I railed against Christian intolerance. Black intolerance is equally troubling. As I read some of the blogs and message boards about the Philadelphia Story, they all reflect the internal conflicts we have concerning how blackness is defined. Must black always be the polar opposite of white? Are we so threatened by shades of gray that we must suppress it as soon as it appears?

Personally, I choose not to deal with such abstract concepts. I just want to be a good person. And many times, it is a lot harder to be good than to be black. Being black just is, while being good requires effort. How I express or represent myself is far more important to me. That's how I keep it real.