1 Cory Myrtil Greenwich High School ­ Senior Stand Against Racism My grandmother used to always say to me, you can state your opinion...if it’s an informed one. That always stuck with me, from that statement I got that you can believe something and declare it to the people around you if you have evidence to back it up. This is similar to our analysis of a book; in order to prove something you need textual evidence to defend your claim. That became one of my mottos even at a young age, before I said something, or got into an argument with anyone. I always used to remind myself, “state your opinion if it’s an informed one, it will prevent hurt feelings and drama.” It worked for a while, but in the heat of the moment, it was hard to always remember what my grandma told me about opinions. When I think about racism ​
I see that it’s based on ignorant beliefs, not at all an informed opinion, and from that I realized that racism is what my grandmother’s words of wisdom were based upon. Her experiences of racism and realizing that a lot of the racist comments and actions that she both witnessed and experienced firsthand came from a place of miseducation. At first, I never connected to racism, though that might be an ignorant comment, I thought it didn’t exist. Let me explain…. ​
I was born in Haiti and raised 2 there until I was about 7 years old, that was when I moved to America permanently because of the educational opportunity, as my mother puts it. Before coming to America, I never realized I was black, and with that I never realized that being black had a stigma of being a bad thing or something to look down upon. In Haiti, everyone around you is a shade of black, every other person you see in the streets is black. I went from being one of many, to the only black person in every situation I was part of, and it boggled my mind that people had such hurtful things to say, only because of the higher percentage of melanin that was in my skin. They would see me, see my dark skin and curly hair and for some reason, immediately would believe they knew my life story. I wasn’t Cory anymore, I was the black girl, who was expected to know how to dance, how to cook fried chicken, and who wasn’t expected to be smart or speak properly. My seven year old self didn’t know what else to do but conform. One thing that is crazy about racism is that a lot of people who are a victim of it become desensitized to it, and at some point, start acting like the persona the people around them expect them to be. I was a victim of that. In order to fit in, stop these comments from getting fired toward me I thought the only solution was to become the “black girl” and lose my individuality. When I became uncomfortable with trying to fit the mold of what the 3 “black girl” should be I did the other extreme, trying to fit the mold of what they would like and find appealing. For years I tried to detach myself from where I came from and how I looked. Trying to Americanize and dare I say “whiten” myself through what I wore, what I did with my hair, what I ate, and what I believed I liked and didn’t like. But it never worked. No matter how hard I tried to detach myself from my blackness, and the history, tragic yet beautiful, of the people that wore a darker hue in their skin as I did...it didn’t work. The more frustrated I got, the more ignorant comments I would hear, from the “N” word, to “ghetto, ratchet, dumb, and uneducated.” All these opinions with no evidence to back them up. Then I became too white for the black kids and too black for the whites. I lost myself completely. All because of the discriminatory opinions I would hear and unfortunately started to believe. It got tiring, with racism and racist people the truth is they will never be pleased with you because no matter how much you change your personality, the way you talk, what you wear, or the town you live in, they will never be pleased because all they see is your skin color. The best way to fight racism, is not to be hostile. What I learned at a young age was the only way to fight racism is to teach them about what it means to be a minority. It’s to use your voice, and accept not only yourself and the skin you were born into, but the people around you. It’s to be 4 both an individual who knows themselves and a member of a community of minorities that love themselves, and are a willing advocate for their people and also willing to integrate themselves in the community they live in. It took me years to do that, as a child I had to do a lot of healing before I accepted who I was. Once I accepted the fact that I was a proud black female that wanted to be an advocate for change in the community I lived in, I became comfortable with all aspect of myself. A weight was lifted off my shoulders and right then and there I was able to open myself up to genuine people, great academic and extracurricular opportunities. I realized that I never want to be the source of what pains people and makes them feel insecure for being the way that they are. It reminded me that people are individuals, they are more than the color of their skin, and texture of their hair. It reminded me that I am able to use my voice for the greater good. I am able to be the change that I want to see for people that are judged, ignored, stereotyped and disrespected just because of the color of their skin. That is why I stand against racism.