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When the Cop Thought I Was a Prostitute

I was a star player on my high school basketball team. This particular game I did really well and I normally would take forever to get dressed afterwards in the locker room. I decided to take the train with my friends. Since I wore combat boots (40 eyelets) it usually took me a while to get dressed after every game. I knew my teammates wanted to leave. It was getting late, so I threw my clothes on and headed to the train station with my teammates. We celebrated our victory, then said our goodbyes as I hoped off the train. To complete my journey, I needed to take the train on the other side, so I switched trains at Dekalb Ave. I was still buzzing – elated with our WIN! Since my Doc Martens were not tied (remember, 40 eyelets), I decided to tie them when I reached the top of the steps. lugging my equipment bag. By the time I reached the top of the train steps, I was just tired. One boot at a time, I laced them up – all the way to my calves. At the corner of my eye, I saw a cop staring at me. I thought to myself, “Is he gonna help?” I chuckled under my breath. I also thought the he would want to know who I played (you know – athletes can spot each other). When he walked over to me, he gave me one of the most awkward looks. I asked him what was up. He responded, “I wanted to make sure you were not prostituting.” I responded,” I just came from playing ball.” He then said, “Are you sure? – Just checking.” I thought to myself, “What a dumbass.” – I also decided that he was very young and stupid; and no one was gonna mess with my high – because we won tonight!

Horrified and confused

When I was 13 years old, I started having tremendous stomach pains. My mom took me to the emergency room, where I was barraged with questions about my sexual history (I was a virgin). They gave me an ultrasound, and they pulled my mom outside of the room to tell her that I had something “similar” to pregnancy. Huh? I think they meant they thought I was having an ectopic pregnancy or something like that. Of course, I was horrified and confused. It turned out, I had appendicitis. My appendix ended up rupturing and I was in the hospital for a week.

My daughter felt unsafe

My nine year old daughter is African American. She is enrolled in the public school system gifted program. During school lunch one day, she and a white female student were assaulted by a white boy. A school official called me after school to inform me that my daughter was punched in the stomach, kneed in the stomach and hit on her head. My daughter reported that her head was violently pushed against the face of the white female student. Sadly, the white girl had a swollen eye as a result of the incident. The white student was sent to the school nurse for medical evaluation; however, my daughter was sent back to class alongside her attacker. When I asked why I was not contacted at the time of the incident and why my daughter was not also evaluated by the school nurse, I was told that she was not crying that much and seemed to be ok. The boy was also allowed to return to school the following day. Even more discomforting, my daughter did not receive the emotional support necessary to process this type of assault. She felt unsafe for days, nervous and afraid of what could happen to her if she returned to school. Upon my request to have a meeting with school officials, the incident was minimized and I was told that it was a simple case of kids pushing and shoving in the line. Imagine the dissatisfaction and disbelief that I felt to learn that the school system would allow this type of treatment of any child, regardless of her race.

My child has feelings

Since pre-k, my biracial daughter has been adultified with adult skill sets applied to her normal childhood behaviors and differences and nefarious intentionality ascribed to her behaviors. She is not afforded the presumption of childhood innocence or the right to the childhood developmental expectations. She has repeatedly been removed from her classroom, received lunchroom and recess punishment, pathologized (recommended for counseling 1x/week for crying in kindergarten, and suspended several times for merely crying in class). She was accused and investigated in 1st grade for bullying and vandalism because parents in our school view her as “a bit of a mean girl,” “a ring leader, “aggressive,” “hostile” and having “something wrong” with her. Parents have described her as smart and calculating … at 6! When incidents have happened to her, they are underreported or misreported, minimized as not being all that hurtful or problematic. My child has feelings, does feel pain, and deserves to be valued and cared for as do all children.

I thought they were complimenting me.

“I thought they were complimenting me. The words they used were innocuous. They seemed sincere. ‘You look so grown for your age.’

I was a child then. I didn’t know what made me look older to them. Nothing happened to me. But other black girls who look “grown” aren’t as lucky. The teenage girl violently thrown across a classroom by a South Carolina school resource officer in 2016 wasn’t as lucky. Neither was the 11-year-old girl tasered by police for allegedly shoplifting groceries in Cincinnati in 2018. If those girls were white, the altercations might have gone differently. Guilty until proven innocent, we are robbed of the leeway given to our white peers. In viewing us as “grown” and stripping us of our childhood, society holds us to the standard of adults, placing undue responsibility on us for our actions.”

This Excerpt was taken with permission from a Yale student writer for The Politic. Read the full article here:

To be adultified..

To be adultified is to be stripped of your pride and innocence. By telling a black girls she's too "aggressive" or "sexual" forces her into a stereotype others may never let her live down.

When A Bad Call Brought Courtside Humiliation

It was the day of the championship game. If we won, we’d move on to the next division, with a shot at the state championship title.

We were all pumped up and ready to go as we saw how full the gym had become with family members, friends, and townspeople. I gave my parents the usual smile and wave and got on the court. The game was about to start when I realized the referees were all huddled around the scorer’s table looking and pointing at me. Confused, I looked at my parents who shared the same expression. In front of the large crowd of people, the referee pulled me off the court and started asking me questions about my age. “How old are you?” The referee stared at me long and hard not accepting my constant answer of “Eleven.” Continuing to say “You shouldn’t be playing right now. You’re not eleven.” and “You shouldn’t be lying about your age.”

The world seemed to stop as everyone stared at me in what felt like, disappointment. Tears stung my face as I stared at my sneakers wishing I could’ve disappeared, wishing that this was all just a bad dream. I never liked being called a liar and here I was being called one by an adult in front of all my peers. My parents had to go back home to retrieve my birth certificate before I was able to play; Costing me half the game. When the referees realized that I was eleven and developed for my age, I didn’t get an apology. Instead, they just let me back into the game, conveniently glossing over their blatant humiliation of me. I will never forget that moment. The shame that came with it or how I then became more conscious of my appearance.

Looking back, I remember the conscious efforts of my mother putting barrettes and beads in my hair, how she made sure that I “dressed my age.” Now, I see that those decisions weren’t just for the purpose of fashion, but a form of protection.

Resource: Cinematic Portrayal of Black Children

The media is very much complicit in how it portrays children of color and how children of color are absent from major films for children.

It may be of interest to some:
Black Children in Hollywood Cinema

Hypersexualization Can Affect Health Care Experiences

When I was 19, I decided it was time to go to the OBGYN for the first time. I had lost my virginity to my boyfriend and wanted to get on birth control. The doctor was an older white man. He came into the room and started asking me questions about my sexual history. What was striking and insulting, was that he asked in very assuming ways. He asked. “So, you’ve had 4 or 5 sexual partners, or more?” I told him I had only ever been with one man. Then he asked, “So, then you’ve been active for, what, 5 or 6 years?” I was shocked and angry. I replied, “No. I didn’t start having sex at 13 years old. I just lost my virginity a month ago.” To which he responded, “Hmmm.” I left feeling terrible at all of his assumptions about my sexuality.

But He Came Up to Me

I don’t really remember how old I was but it was in elementary school. All the boys & girls were being ‘fresh’ as most boys & girls do around that time. I remember a boy approaching me in class to be what flirtatious was at that age and the teacher yelled at me. The boy was black as well. I remember telling her, “But he came up to me” and I remember her response being something along the lines of I invited him to talk to me for being playful with him. The other girls in the class, who were white or Hispanic, would sit on laps and kiss cheeks but I was just sitting at my desk.

Having an ‘Attitude’

I went to small evangelical Christian schools that were extremely conservative and mostly white. In many of my classes I was the only black person. On many occasions I was kicked out of classes for “rolling my eyes” or “having an attitude.” I never understood why this was happening, because I wasn’t trying to be disruptive. I got straight-A’s, but still my teachers didn’t believe me when I tried to tell them that I was not purposefully trying to be negative in class. I honestly never thought that it could be the result of a bias until reading other people’s stories about similar situations.

The Bias Behind Labeling Black Girls as ‘Street Smart’

I would like to add something that has always annoyed me. The term “street smart” is always associated with black kids. I have always asked “what the hell does that mean”. If a black kid is poor, and he or she has seen and experienced events that they should not have seen at such a young age, e.g. heard gun fire in their neighborhoods or murders, society adultifies them because of the experience. Society characterizes said children as having grown wiser and stronger because of these bad experiences. Additionally, since these experiences have purportedly enhanced the lives of these children, these children are expected to behave like adults because they should know how bad life is. As a result, they are not given the grace period to grow and behave as normal teens, and their actions are dealt with harshly. Racism has a tendency to assign these bad experiences to black children, many of whom live in middle class or even upper class neighborhoods who have never experienced these traumas, but who are treated as though they have. Additionally, since society has determined that such negative experiences were positive, it doesn’t feel a need to either protect such children or give them psychological counseling or support. On the flip side. Look at the school shootings. Those kids are given psychological care immediately. Those kids are not expected to cope. And the experiences are rightfully characterized as what they are—traumatic events that can alter a child’s psyche, sense of stability, and safety. Society seems to know and understand that there is nothing positive about being in a school shooting, being shot at, or witnessing murder. The news recently has been filled with stories about how the kids at Columbine and other mass shootings have never recovered and have suffered years of drug use and/or committed suicide. There is a striking difference in how these kids are treated compared to black children. Assigning adultification to black kids definitely removes the responsibility from society to help these kids. It also justifies society’s racist vilification and treatment of these innocent children.