My friend’s son was upset.
That day, he’d been goofing around with his buds in the crowded halls of his elementary school in Brooklyn, New York, when one of his friends called him a name. The real bad one, one that immediately put the focus on the fact that my friend’s son ― let’s call him Sam ― is Black.
Being called this name shocked Sam. Up until that moment, he’d just been a kid being a goofball with his pals. After that moment, he became The Black Kid.
That night, when my friend was recounting Sam’s hurt and bewilderment to me, I immediately recognized what had happened. It’s what I’ve come to think of as the Record Scratch moment.
All kids can go through this in one form or another, when their lives drastically, heartbreakingly change due to circumstances outside their control. But if you were a kid growing up in America and you’re not white, you almost certainly experienced a particular version of the Record Scratch moment: One moment you’re just a kid, and the next you are a Person of Color.
Yes, there are exceptions, like if you grew up in a community where almost everyone looked like you, or in a United Colors of Benetton ad. (Remember those?) I’m also not going to pretend that my experience of growing up Chinese American was the same as growing up Black in America.
But what I do remember clearly about being the kid who doesn’t look like the other kids is how jarring it feels to discover that the other kids notice it. That they consider you different.
So I explained to my friend, who is white (oh my God, are we three the United Colors of Benetton?!), that having your race called out is pretty much a rite of passage for kids of color in America.
It’s The Moment when you feel the heat of the spotlight on you and your self-perception is forever altered. My friends and family compare notes on these Record Scratch moments when we talk about our experiences of being minorities.
I became Asian at the swimming pool the summer between…
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