This is a section out of my diary (which I keep on my mac) and I thought Id share it since my blog is pretty bare being that I just decided to share with the world what I was thinking.
October 6th 2012
I consider myself African-American and although my roots branch off into many other soils the visual truth is that you would see me as “black”. If I told you my grandfather was Haliwa-Saponi Indian and my grandmother was African-American, my mother a combo of both, my father Haitian American, and me some mixture of it all you would still see me as “black” and I’m fine with that because I know me and I know the color of my skin. As a black woman I can tell you now the stereotypes are NOT always correct as I myself have had my quite ignorance proven wrong lol . Let me give you some background on a conversation that took place between my mother, grandmother, sister, and I. I had pretty much introduced the idea that I would be moving 700 miles away into the city with a man my family had never met before. If that wasnt enough to hold the pause button the fact that when I said he was Spanish was. Because the mouths on my grandmother and my mother fell open in shock.