Hood Rich...

All this weekend I had a variety of thoughts floating in my head, but a discussion in class tonite brought them all together. Through discussions with others and personal observations, I kept thinking about how race, class, gender, and access all intersect. This weekend when I had dinner with J and his parents, I was telling them about this joke my brother and I had going with my sister. How before she was born we were hella rich, but when she came along we became broke. Ahhh, tormenting the youth. What are older siblings for eh? I’m digressing a little bit, but it is related to the bigger picture. The whole issue of status and perception that exist not only in the broader sense of community (i.e. certain cities, neighborhoods, etc.), but amongst culture and race – in my instance, Black folks. Like I have said in previous post, sometimes I feel like I am bi-community, if that makes sense, considering where and how I was raised, and the opportunities and experiences that I have now. Both are on two different ends of the spectrum, but clash like plaids and polka dots. Tonite in class we were reading this article about section 8 housing in Sunnydale – a low income area in SF. The way they depicted African-American girls was ridiculous… that they all have these unwanted pregnancies; they turn to unhealthy food, drugs, and alcohol to “self medicate”; and are in constant fear of boys and fall into abusive relationships with older men. From personal observation, I know that this can happen… but ALL girls fit into this situation. Hmmm… interesting. I couldn’t help but think about how beliefs like these create an “us vs. them” mentality, not only in the broader sense of community, but amongst Black folks, not to mention the personal battles that I feel we often internalize day in and day out. Like I said, all very interesting. This article now reminds me of emergency room visit I had when I was 13. I had what turned out to be a real bad case of food poisoning, but the head physician wasn’t buying it. He kept telling my mom, “You know, kids like her come in all the time and they are afraid to tell their parents they are pregnant.” He kept insisting that I have a pregnancy test and a pelvic exam. He even made my mom exit the exam room so that he could ask me again if I were sexually active and if I thought I was pregnant. Yes, you gotta love how stereotypes perpetuate beliefs that limit and pigeon hold folks. That happened to me nearly 15 years ago, and I am certain that I wasn’t the only one that he had this discussion with; and that he and other docs like him felt the need to tell “girls like me” how we live our lives, all based on a sick perception of what my community looks like. Shizer, how much longer will we have to deal with shit like this?