Personal Narrative Essay: I Am African American

This article first talks about how people were not willing to talk about race, but would eat other ethnic foods, wear their clothes, and even sing songs created by people of different ethnic background. Octavia Butlers’ books and shorts story’s, which is in the science fiction category, boldly talks about race, and how the conversation about it has shifted. However in the parable series, it is said that Butler is not so concerned with the workings of race, as related to her previous works. In the story she does highlight race under late capitalism. Butler wants her audience to see how race would function with the demise of the United States government.

Society likes to paint a picture of what ethnicity belongs in what type of job or career. In movies, TV shows, or even in advertisements we see certain races portray certain roles. Hispanics usually are seen is housekeeping or hard labor roles, whites usually are portrayed in professional careers like doctors, lawyers or business men. While African Americans are usually view as athletes, whether they are in high school, college or the professional level they are seen playing sports. In an essay written by Henry Louis Gates Jr. called “Delusions of Grandeur” he makes a lot of great points regarding African Americans and how they are viewed in the professional aspect lifestyle.

I’m a white race male. I believe being white I have lived a life in the majority view of this country. I had very little contact with people of color my childhood life. I also believe that I am white privileged so it makes it hard for me to understand all the struggles for minority Americans. I realize that my connection with the majority of America places me in a position of power, I should use to help others.

It is important to continue to diversify these media industries because they play such an important role in our everyday lives. The United States is a country that is becoming increasingly more diverse and it is necessary that our media industry reflects that. Through print and broadcast journalism, advertising, public relations, television and film, one’s perception of the world is formed. A person’s story is best told by that individual and the same thing applies to media in terms of race. If a white person is telling the story of an African-American, the reality of that story may be misconstrued.

I have blond hair and pale skin. On the color wheel, my father is a rich mocha, my sister is a warm copper, and my mother is a perfectly tanned caramel; I am somewhere between cream and eggshell on the opposite end of the spectrum. Being stereotypically white can be difficult when you’re African American. The beginning of high school was when I first began to feel that my fair complexion hid my true identity.

Hello, I’m twenty two years old and I’m an African-American female. My major is Business Administration and I’m currently not a member of any sports teams, but In high school I was on the national honors society I have two social networking sites which are Facebook and Instagram. Additionally, I 'm also an older sibling to my two younger

Unknown Hi i’m Bella. I look like a happy go lucky African american woman. Well to all that say that they only got one part right in that whole statement. I’m an average african american woman. I have nothing and no one to truly call my own.

The status quo is something to be admired when you’re at the top of it’s food chain. The lines drawn to keep my skin and that of the white man’s skin is nothing but a control factor. Both races know that we’re not being contained like we have a disease, yet the white population’s movements and procedures say otherwise. The thin line that separates our lunch room acts as a glass window, separating a patient terminally ill, and a bystander walking by acknowledging that pain, but not sympathizing unless it’s their loved one in their. If you eat the food I’m eating on, you’re not going to catch anything.

Reporters, flocking around me, all my eyes could see were the staggering number of camera flashes and the reporters repeatedly asking the same question, “Hicham, how did you manage to smash the last world record by nearly 20 seconds?” Still being out of breath from the race my lungs could not manage to gather the air needed to answer the question that required a long explanation. Soon after, one of my coaches grabbed me what seemed like my 10th water, my brain descended from the notorious runner's high after taking a long sip of water. Knowing the reporter’s apprehension, I started explaining to the various reporters what exactly happened during the historic race I ran a mere 10 minutes ago. As I spoke all of the reporters from the many news stations leaned their microphones in so they could all hear what exactly happened during the historic 1-mile race starting the race in the middle of the pack was my original plan which my body carried out throughout the beginning of the race.

For me, my racial and cultural identity has always been at the forefront of my life experience. I grew up in an Iowan rural small town that was founded on Swedish heritage. My home town of Albert City, Iowa was founded by my Swedish ancestors, many of which still have family there today. Therefore, I have always known that my Swedish blood was an important aspect of my life. However, I am also of German, Norwegian, and Danish heritage which has conflicted my views of my identity.