The First Time // Am I Really That Different?

I remember the first time I actually felt black. I left my hometown's school system to attend one of the best high schools in the state, where the vast majority that attend are [semi] affluent whites. Before moving there, I rarely thought of my race -- actually, I had not thought about myself "being Black" once during my time with my hometown education system. However, as soon as I first stepped into that auditorium for the accepted/attending students; I felt it. The stares, the up-down body scans, the lean-back-and-whisper-to-a-friend, the sudden quiet -- I felt it all, and the most alarming part was realizing it had to do with my skin color.

Even now, I dress the same, talk the same, walk the same, and behave the same as my white counterparts, yet I am treated and seen as someone with an abnormal head shape, or monstrously ugly nostrils; I even recall a side comment about my "bulging" lips.

But... at the end of the day, am I really that different?

// In this day and age, such occurrences are just child's play. To treat another differently on the basis of their skin should be considered frivolous by any race, ethnic group, or culture. Therefore, I decided to create this piece using simple lines and shapes, illustrating that of what a child would most likely produce. The white people are portrayed as stick figures cascading along the sidewalk portraying the "stare" we get whenever we walk down a street. The man (me) in the piece contains exaggerated facial and bodily features "characteristic" of blacks and what white people tend to point out most when slandering us.

Medium: Photoshop

Boston University, Boston, MA