Socially Awkward Black Kid

Back in high school, I could probably count on a hand with an amputated finger how many socially awkward black kids there were - myself included - and I could still have a finger left over.

High school is a fuck fair of damaged self-esteem, inferiority complexes and raging hormones as it is. Even with a childhood which forced you to grow into an adult real fast, those younger years were always worlds apart from being a teenager. 

Not Black Enough

As a teenager - or, more specifically, as a BLACK teenager - I learnt that being socially awkward/introverted or anything other than a stereotype of my race, wasn’t cool.

I wasn’t loud enough, rude enough or “black enough”. The latter was always something that bugged me for reasons I’ve never fully understood until now. Despite my darker skin, full lips, African heritage large, flat nose and annoyingly noticeable bubble butt, blackness seemed more important as a personality trait than anything else. The other features just separated me from the black kids with more European features (straight noses, lighter skin, lips large but not as large as mine etc). No surprise that in my high school days, these kids were favoured more.

High school for me was the first time I learnt that “Being black” was about how you spoke and how people perceived black people to speak. If you didn’t use slang, you were “white sounding”; if hip-hop and hip-hop alone wasn’t your music of choice, what the fuck was wrong with you??? And if you didn’t dress a little ‘street’ or ‘hood’, then you may as well be John or Jane from the Valleys.

Dressing the part

As a sports mad kid with dreams of the Olympics, I lived in tracksuits and in-your-face branded items (Avirex, Schott NYC, Nike, Nike, NIKE!). I actually couldn’t afford them and when I look back, the shame that slices me within still hurts. The shame was in begging my mother for clothes she couldn’t afford to buy me, so I could fit in. Notice the irony? I wanted to wear clothes so I fit in externally, yet I knew when I opened my mouth, or was in company of others, I blatantly stood out.

The clothes were my first pass. I also rocked Nike TN hats, durags, sweatbands round the head (don't ask) and wore fashionable trainers. The fact that I was also good in sports elevated me to the classic status of black people being good runners/jumpers/athletes in general. Go me.

Unfortunately, I spoke with a slight lisp and there was nothing street sounding about it. My voice had an annoying pitch I couldn’t control, my lack of confidence made my words sound meek and fumbled and I dared to pronounce words correctly. Yes, I used slang but I didn’t overdo it. And that’s where I stood out. I spoke too much of the wrong thing. BUT AT LEAST I WAS FUNNY... Ha! Now that's a joke! I was far from being the class clown; I was the introverted kid that teachers didn’t mind. BIG NO NO.

Introverted, socially awkward black kid in high school

If you were a black kid in the high school I went to (it was known as a rough school or one that only bad kids and the desperate attended), the only way you could get away with being introverted and well spoken (I wasn’t well spoken, but because I didn’t use slang 90% of the time, anything ‘other’ was seen as well spoken) was to either be the class clown or to style your introversion as being the rude, silent type. And if teachers liked you, it had to be because you were popular, which I wasn't.

Music, the great divider

Music wise, I liked everything. Nu-Metal bands were introduced to me at this stage in life and it changed my perception of the world completely. I fell in love with the lyrics, the angry beats, the screams, the lifestyle. I was also in love with American rap music and UK garage at this time. My style started to change somewhat, with me incorporating elements of grunge in with my excessively sporty style.

When I observed grunge and hip hop style, I saw many similarities - particularly the oversized clothing. The same could be said for rock and hip hop, with the explicit content, fierce beats, controversy and in-your-face attitudes. The groups seemed to hate each other, yet I would look from afar and saw so much potential with the fusion. 

I hung around with the ‘grungers’ and the misfits. My class was popular for being unpopular. Yes, we were all unpopular but we were the cool unpopular kids. There was also the class of uncool, unpopular kids. High school is great like that ain’t it?

But regardless of where I was, who I hung around with or what I wore, I was never ‘black enough’. I started to resent myself and hated those around me that perpetuated a stereotype. I thought the idea that if you ‘spoke properly’ seemed to imply you were white was fucking stupid. In fact, I saw it as an insult to black culture. If you’re seen as being well read, or able to articulate yourself without the use of slang, ‘aggression’ or a loud voice, then you’re deemed too white to be black.

Since when is blackness a personality trait?

I read an article recently which spoke volumes to me. The terms “not black enough” or she/he “thinks they’re black” often make me raise my eyebrow with contempt. Yes, culture is a powerful thing within its own right and I can take owning your blackness right back to slavery and the differences between house slaves and field slaves (those who know, know what I mean).

Being black embodies so much. But as someone who is ever learning about my history and roots, and as someone who was told I wasn’t “black enough” by the same black kids who at the time, didn’t know who Malcolm X was… I refuse to adhere to the notion that blackness is nothing more than a personality trait. And if it is, to pin it down to a stereotype and shame others for not meeting that, makes me sick.

I realise how uncomfortable I can make people for simply not fitting the black male mould. But yet, when I’ve shown anger - deep-rooted, repressed anger - I’m suddenly seen as black, often by the same people who would put me down otherwise as being "white sounding". I heard someone say about racists: "We're okay when we're winning something, and n*ggers when we're not". Well no, I'm not black when I'm visibly angry and white when I'm speaking calmly. For that, go fuck yourself.

I am a proud black male of West African heritage, who grew up in the UK. I’m no extrovert. And I don’t need to revert to slang just to make others feel more comfortable about the box they need me to be in.

This is what gives me confidence. I’m me. I know who I am and I know who I’m not. Not every black person looks, sounds, shits or thinks the same. This doesn’t stop you / I / them from being black. Ignorance can be cute, but in some areas, it just makes you look stupid.

There was a time I stayed silent and didn’t challenge the narrative. That ends here.