Let's talk about racism

Everyone who has met me knows that I'm a black woman - the colour of your skin is not something you can hide, change or do away with for a day or two. Some of you may also  know that I was born in Nigeria and adopted into a white family. But very few people know about my life-long experiences with racism. 

The reason for this is simple, I've not had much luck talking about the bad things that happened to me as a black person in a white world. For the most part people just don't want to know, my stories about racism make people uncomfortable. And apparently we can't have that! 

So for years I was mostly silent about the traumatic things that happened to me when I was a just a kid. I was silent about being bullied for being black, how class mates called me the N-word when they were arguing with me. I was silent about hearing racial slurs shouted at me when cycling to and from school and the absolute terror this  instilled in me. I never talked about my dread of the long weeks leading up to our national holiday of St. Niklas and his servant Black Pete (Zwarte Piet), I hated being called Black Pete, by little kids who didn't know any better and older children who definitely did. I was silent about being stared at and talked about in loud whispers behind my back by children and adults alike. I was silent about the pain of being different and being made to feel different.  

And I was certainly silent about all the subtle (and not-so-subtle) racist digs I experience as an adult. People who for the most part have trouble believing systemic racism exist simply can't fathom that sometimes it's the littlest things that can hurt us the most.

Too often I was told "Surely you're exaggerating a bit,  it can't have been that bad", or "I'm sure your own negative attitude has something to do with it". Or "Well, I have a friend who's black and he's never had any problems so it's probable just you".  Having your experiences denied is extremely damaging.

So I stopped talking about racism. Until now. It's time for all of us to talk about it. And maybe this time some people will listen.
So even though I'm terrified I'm joining the global Black Lives Matter movement from behind my keyboard. They say: write about what you know. Well, I know racism.

This is my story and this is my truth. I certainly don't speak for all black women. It's just what happened to me, what formed me, what hurt me. This is about my life. To be continued.