Column: Living life half and half

‘The slightly darker hue that covered my body didn’t allow me to be completely accepted without questions I would continue to hear for the rest of my life.’

Courtesy+of+Leila+Warren.

Courtesy of Leila Warren.

Two little baby pink light up princess shoes waddled toward a door that would become the entryway to the first place I would ever call my classroom. My dark copper, slightly wavy hair was pulled tightly into multiple ponytails and separated into clean squares on my head. I was only 4 when I walked into that kindergarten classroom. I would forever be one of the youngest kids in my grade.

But I had to learn a lesson that was outside of the curriculum that day. My skin tone and my blended culture was semi-foreign in small town Lewisville Texas. The mixing of my two opposite lifestyles was a blend most kids had ever really seen or experienced. The slightly darker hue that covered my body didn’t allow me to be completely accepted without questions I would continue to hear for the rest of my life.

Now, don’t get me wrong, no kid ever singled me out. At that age, being different creates curiosity, not resentment.

Though the questions that my classmates proposed innocent, a sudden blaring realization that I was different accompanied them. Once the taxing day was over and it it was finally time to go home, I couldn’t contain my excitement.

Once a 6’3″ black man whom I call my father walked into the room, the aura changed. For a young kid like me, the difference was noticeable. The way my 5’1″ white teacher interacted with him was night and day compared to the other dads.

This was one of the first direct instances I encountered this behavior.


 

I’ve always thought it was immensely strange when people became uncomfortable sitting in a room where their characteristics stood out among everyone else. Whether it be a girl in a room full of guys or a pale person in a room full of dark skinned people, that thought has been one of the most odd things for me to ever observe.

Only because, well, I am almost always the odd one out.

My hometown is laced with rich Mexican American tradition and southern pride. Texas, the Lone Star State, is a place I will always call home.

Despite the deep pride that runs through Texas like the Rio Grande, many flaws rest within this big state.

The quickest lesson I’ve ever learned is that prejudice stems from older prejudices. It doesn’t start with me; it goes way beyond what I could possibly imagine and laces the history textbooks as well as documentaries. The hate and discrimination finds its way into everyday life and poses as a challenge daily. It threatens my courage, pride and jeopardizes my character.

To some, seeing an interracial couple is something they wished they never had to see. Once they see my parents, my family receives looks that resemble the same ones a cold-blooded murderer gets in a courtroom.

A few of my parents lifelong friends chose to no longer speak to them once my they got married. Despite this, neither one of my parents hold a grudge against any of their lost friends because in the process of losing those people, they won a family that breaks the mold and poses as inspiration for other budding relationships.

For some, it’s a strange concept to grasp that my skin tone is completely different than both of my parents. If I go out with my mother, every once in awhile someone will stare in confusion when I call her mom. Only because it doesn’t make sense; how can a darker skinned child come from a porcelain doll?

My parents have taught me to overcome hateful words and actions by threading humbleness throughout my life. The wide-eyed stares fuel my drive to push the envelope with everything I do and hold my head up a little higher. The low sinister whispers inspire me to never hide who I am and what I believe in. Most importantly, the fire that burns deep inside me stirs up a person just waiting on the chance to change the world.


 

Almost 12 years later, the questions have settled but tensions have risen. News stories continually revolve around natural disasters, riots and violence.

Just as light has finally started to shine on deep-rooted conflicts within our country and world, voices that represent justice and freedom have propelled themselves to be heard.

This has inspired not only me but millions of people around the world to stand up for equality and fair treatment for all.

My life lessons have equipped me with the right knowledge and tools to stay true to who I am throughout this ever-changing world.

My parents have taught me to accept that no matter what a person may choose to do there will always be someone to pick them apart. And most importantly, I am no exception to that rule.