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“Black Jokes were never funny”

This is Part 3.5 of the expose series about the woman and her family in which adopted me. Growing up, I was deceived to believe that I was White and Puerto Rican. That lie alone would go on to define much of my life — only to later on discover that it wasn’t true.

Me and Amy, I think I was about 13 in this photo.

As a child, Amy consistently used and commanded black jokes as her “form of humor” because she felt that because their “allegedly” wasn’t a black person in her family…. that it was okay.

I felt so duped when I finally took a DNA test to learn that I am 51% British and the remaining African/different parts of Europe. My entire life I was subjected to cruel and insensitive jokes about my skin colour — under the rouse that it was okay because I wasn’t really black.

I wish I would’ve known so long ago that Amy was/is racist. I spent so long feeling like the token child, that, I often didn’t even think to further investigate what I really was.

This was where most of my racially charged identity issues came from. I never understood that the entire time she was making fun of me, mostly, because she had convinced me that I was anything but black. Her conviction was that she didn’t have a black member of her family (come to find out I am almost half black). In fact, I am not even American black I am Cameroonian and African (one of my real parents is from Africa).

I remember growing up how she would make jokes about peoples’ skin being much darker than she had ever seen; often using the n-word, and then turning around like (“I love the fact thata I can say these things and he doesn’t get offended..”).

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