An open letter from your black class president

I remember the time a friend told me a story.

It was the story on how racism still reverberates in the dorms of America. It was a story that explains why minority students struggle getting used to a campus where it’s noticed that they are outnumbered. It’s also a story of what happens when you break barriers or defy odds and people re not ready.

It’s a story that happened in a college dorm when a white student had reservations to an African-American student being their class president---had reservations because he felt I don’t “represent them.” After my friend told me this, I was mad and speechless. Saddened and hurt. Disappointed and confused. I never thought someone would use the color of my skin to determine what kind of person I could be.

But I was clueless.

I go to a school where 80% of the campus is white, a school where there are approximately 330 African-American students . And even though it’s 2016, not everyone is as friendly or open has you would like. Incidents like these limit progress. More importantly, they make me feel like I haven’t done enough and throws my race back in my face like it’s something I want to forget. I was devastated after I heard my friend tell me this. I wondered what did I do wrong, did I do anything at all? This shows something that some people just see: color.

That’s the honest truth—all some people see is color.

I could just say that maybe he was mad that the person he supported didn’t win and I understand that. But implying that the color of skin will play a factor in the job that I’ll do is the epitome of racism. It’s just plain wrong. It limits our abilities to create change. It makes us weak and destructive people. Frankly, it makes us look bad. To that student, I don’t know whom you are or what you believe, but answer this question for me: ‘Why did you have reservations because of my race?’

Did you think that I was just going to champion the rights of black students because I am “that black president?” As class president, it’s my job to champion for the rights of everyone, no matter what they believe or what they look like. But in our community, there are others who need a little bit more help. There are people who need someone in their corner and I will not back down from listening to their problems and asking myself what can I do to help. You might have been mad that your guy lost and that’s valid.

But do not use my race as an indicator of my capabilities.

I am proud of who I am and you are a part of the problem. I know we don’t live in perfect world. We live in a time when people question my culture’s belonging. Racist sentiments are weaved into every fabrics of society, from criminal justice to our education system and to the mindset of people around us. In parts of our community, marginalized groups are fighting to at least be acknowledge.

There’s too much work to do for you to have reservation of me being your class president because I’m black and I hope you realize this.

Sincerely,

You African-American Class President,

Kenneth