High school was an interesting time for me; as it is for many. We are all navigating the construction of our identity, brand, and who we want to be. The internal turmoil of being authentic and conformist is wild, which often subjugates us to unfathomable psychological stress and a desire for peer validation. I guess like many others, I found myself in a similar boat, I wanted to fit in, and yet I also wanted to be me.

Thinking about it sounds crazy, like we all wanna be accepted but different at the same time, like what? In my experience, it was a hard duality to navigate especially when you are biracial. I suppose that’s where most of the complications began; the experience of being both not “black enough” or “white enough” became an internal conflict. No matter what I did or didn’t do, my actions were judged scrutinized even. It also didn’t help that I went to a PWI private school where a small faction of black students benefited from the transaction of athletic capability for academic access.

This presented another conflict, it always seems to be the way at every PWI, prominent student-athletes of color are always well known and respected for their athletic accomplishments rather than their academic successes. My athletic success triggered questions of academic belongingness and intelligence. Comments like, “Sports got you here, huh?” or “Dude it is so easy to get into a school when you play a sport.” mitigated the work I had to put into even having an opportunity to be considered for the school.

When speaking about this topic in class and sharing my first-hand experiences of the racialization that comes with being a black student-athlete it fell upon deaf ears. The more I reflect upon it, the most troubling aspect of it is that my peers knew or “thought” they knew why I was at school. I was there to fit the quota of black student-athlete that would dominate sports and be allowed to get by academically because of my “importance to athletic success”.

Yes, it’s pretty obvious that I play sports, I am a large human who is visible in many settings. However, what was not obvious to me, was that because of my blackness and athletic talent life was “easy for me”. As if being black, white, or biracial is easy in a country where the two races that make up your identity are told to dislike one another to the very foundation of the other’s being. It is crazy to think that race, education, and atheism are the defining constructs that a 16-year-old had to navigate.

Not only was I not allowed a blank slate like my peers, but I also had racial politics placed on me, as a matter of fact, they were forced upon me. I had to tote the line for my peers of color and the very few faculty of color; which is mind-boggling. Upon reflection, I am still racialized and seen as a commodity for the right bidder. My peers question my intelligence, it is as if I inhabit a body with a sound mind that I do not own. My peers, alongside faculty and staff, can attach labels or stereotypical beliefs about who I am; which I am charged with combating should I even wish for a chance at a fair shake.

Certain things are inescapable, the salience of my identity and my physical appearance/stature have woven a persona regarding who I am from onlookers. It is safe to say I have been presented with two options: 1) adopt and accept the narratives others place on me or  2) find ways to disprove the negative stereotypes and stay true to myself.

I have chosen the latter, life is not about making others happy, if I was doing it to prove something then I have nothing left to prove. I beat the odds, and statically, I am a part of the rare percentage of young black men who are not dead or in jail. I would say that I have triumphed in ways that others cannot even begin to fathom – just like Maya Angelou said, “And still, I rise!”