It doesn't matter if your black or white

Last week I read a post dealing with racial issues. It dealt with being a black woman in a world that can't seem to accept you because your not "black" enough. It struck a cord with me on so many levels.
I'm So tired of this debate. I'm so tired with people telling me I "sound white". I'm so tired of being accused of not being black enough. Of people telling me that I don't think I'm black. Your right, I don't "think" that I'm black, I "know" that I am.
Why does being black have to be equated with poor speech, a style of dress or the music that you listen to? Those are always the first things that are attacked when someone is deemed not black enough. The funny thing is that the white folks think that I'm too black for them.
That leaves me in limbo.
I haven't felt like this for quite some time but, ever so often I come across someone who plays that old tune. Someone who thinks they know who I am- "Oh, your from Long Island, that's why you talk like that". No, I talk like this because this is how my black mother talked to me.
Why can't we all just be human beings and try to co-exist? Why can't I listen to whatever I want to on the radio and have an appreciation for all music? I love and appreciate Hip-hop and R&B but it's not the only music on the planet. Black folks started rock and roll.
I grew up in a home where every human being was presented as equal. Yes, some preconcieved ideas snuck in here and there, that is human nature. I was encouraged to stay true to who I am. I've struggled with this. I've even doubted myself at times-wondering if the haters were right. One thing that I love about New York City is that everyone gets to be whoever they want to be. If whoever that person is happens to be a bit out there it's just chalked up to, "Only in New York". I've never felt more free than living here. There are the moments though when I'm slapped in the face with the realization that even HERE it's still not safe.

Inhale...Exhale...Inhale...Exhale...

As I came off my high of finishing the half marathon last week I had a death in the family. My first reaction was one of sadness at the loss of my uncle. Although we had never been very close he always attended family functions with a smile on his face and a hug for everyone. My aunt and uncle were extremely close as were their children and they are taking this loss very hard. My sadness and hurt was for them, I can barely imagine the pain they must feel. The lost a brother and uncle whose daily life was intricately interwoven with theirs in such a way that his death leaves a gapping hole. There is no way to measure the pain. My uncle leaves behind a 23 year old shadow. It is the only way to describe the relationship that this father and son shared. There was rarely one without the other. They lived and breathed each one another. When I think about the pain of losing a parent I almost want to cry. I once had a dream that my mother had left this earth and in my dream I couldn't stop screaming. The emptiness and lonliness felt heavy and dark on my chest, I could hardly take in a breathe. I woke up with tears in my eyes and immediately called my mom to make sure she was okay. I don't know what I would do if I didn't have my mom. I wouldn't want to be on this earth anymore. I just don't see the point. Even thinking about the day, a day...I can't...I can't think about this.