ing else. “No I’m not Jamaican, and no I’m not Hispanic, I’m simply just half-black and half-white.” Why couldn’t they except the fact that I was biracial, African American and Caucasian? Why did I have to be a different nationality, like being biracial wasn’t good enough for them? I love to answer that question when I am asked, however I was not expecting that type of reaction from them. It was hard for them to comprehend that a person could actually be both black and white, and that they did not have to choose between one or the other. My first friend I made here was black. She told me that I am who I am, and there is nothing I can do to change where I came from. God chose me to be a biracial child for a reason. And because of that, I am now a stronger person. I am no longer ashamed that I am both, black and white. I was talking to an older black friend the other day, who I was introduced to my senior year of high school, and he told me what his first impressions were of me. He said that when he first saw me on campus, he thought I was just going to be another one of those “lost” biracial kids that just forgot about the black half, and only “acted” white. Especially since I had straight, red hair with freckles, and I showed no signs of dressing like a black person. He said he thought this all along until he found out and was amazed by the fact that I was on the STEP (Strength, Teamwork, Ethnicity, and Power) dance team, and that I actually recognized that I was black. He said he was also shocked because of how many black friends I have made here. I was really offended by this, knowing that a friend of mine had made a judgement of me like that. He assumed that being raised in Altoona made me completely forget about half of my true identity. But I guess that he had the right to his own opinion considering I did come to school here spending most of my li...
