While “blite” can be a compliment, black lives need to matter
Blite: (1) (adj.) a way of describing a person whose outer appearance does not align with their racial stereotype. Instead it aligns with a different race’s stereotypes.
(2) (person) Gabriel Leonard.
People often wonder why I dress, talk and act so “white.” I happen to be an African American male, so this strikes them as the appropriate way to describe my clothes, speech and behavior. Just because I don’t sag my pants, drop mixtapes and put #D1Bound in my social media bios, I am somehow acting “white.”
I actually find it funny when people tell me how “white” I am, but at the same time there is some seriousness in the name calling. I don’t find it offensive, and in fact recognize that it is usually intended as a compliment the way people say it. Somehow being white is associated with being smart, well mannered and able to speak properly.
While I do appreciate the sentiment behind this oddly-framed compliment, I wish this interpretation of my behavior as being outside of the stereotypical bounds of my race converted over into the everyday world. I find it very difficult that I have to deal with racial prejudice outside of my home environment, and so do most of my African American brothers.
I wish the police officer who questioned if a package I was holding on my doorstep was mine could see me as “blite.” Because I do understand the oddly-framed compliments, I wish he could see that I am more than my skin tone and that I should be judged on my behavior, not my appearance.
People believe racism is overplayed, but tell that to the lady in the Giant who clutches her purse when I walk by her. Tell that to the man who tells his daughter to stay away from me. Please tell them how “blite” I am. Tell them we all are, because I am honestly tired. Not of people calling me white, but of the world treating me like an alien. No human deserves to be judged this way.
Because I do appreciate those oddly-framed compliments, I wish the rest of the world felt the same way. It has become all too easy to joke about racism when you are a target of it. It’s in the way that the “n” word rolls off the African American tongue so easily after being said once. The same way an officer’s gun comes out so easily when he sees a young man like me.
But I think I’ve learned how not to die as an African American male.
As so eloquently stated by Trevor Noah, I learned from one African American male that I can’t wear a hood in public no matter what the weather. I learned from another black male not to approach the police. I learned from another black male not to hold an airsoft gun. I learned from yet another black male that I can’t be big. I also learned that while I can’t approach an officer, at the same time, I can’t ever run away from one. Oh, and I recently learned that I shouldn’t carry a small weapon or I will get shot near 20 times.
I understand what I can’t do if I want to survive, but I just don’t understand what I CAN do. Maybe I’m not welcome here?
While I do appreciate your oddly-framed compliments, I wish we all got along. So although I understand the positive intentions you have when you call me white, I can’t hide who I am. I am the unaccepted. I am the unwanted. I am the African American male, and I WANT your approval but I can’t get it.
Although I do appreciate your oddly-framed compliments. I am only “blite” with the people I know. I learned that I can’t be me.
My life matters as much as the next man’s, and maybe one day the rest of the world will feel that way as well.
Your donation will support the student journalists of Watkins Mill High School. Your contribution will allow us to purchase equipment and cover our annual website hosting costs.
K. Torres-Meriwether • Dec 17, 2015 at 10:11 am
Thank you for sharing, Gabe! You and your words, feelings, and experience all matter.
F. Davis, NMS Media Specialist • Dec 16, 2015 at 1:16 pm
Powerful message, Gabe. I very much appreciate your raw, honest perspective. You have given us a lot to think about. I believe that your words will resonate with me as I interact with the students at NMS, and make me a better teacher.
J.Christopher • Dec 15, 2015 at 1:21 pm
I second what Ms. Ritchie said! Thank you for being courageous and speaking your truth!
M.Rtichie • Dec 15, 2015 at 7:53 am
I am so proud that I can say that I had the honor to teach you in middle school. I remember having these conversations with our class back in 8th grade. I am so proud of you!! Keep speaking your truth and say what others are afraid to say!