As a college Resident Assistant, I found myself often surrounded by white freshmen. One evening, I was hanging out in my dorm when one girl, who had never ventured far from her small town, shared an observation with me.
“You’re not like other Black people,” she said, and I braced myself for the inevitable. “You speak so well.” Then came the shocking part: “You know what we call those other Black people?”
I knew where this was going. “Please don’t—”
“Niggers.”
I paused, shocked. “First, don’t use that word. Second, if you ever say that in front of the wrong person, you might find yourself in serious trouble.”
“But—”
“Get out of my room.”
While her name wasn’t Becky, it certainly fit the mold.
I’ve encountered variations of this conversation before, but her blatant disregard for sensitivity was jarring. To her, I was “well-spoken,” which translated to “You sound white.” This notion has plagued me my entire life, and I’m tired of white people treating it like a compliment. It’s rooted in racism, and I won’t stand for it. Just because I speak with clarity doesn’t mean I’m any less Black. I am unapologetically Black, so let’s not confuse good grammar with assimilation.
The Implications of “Well-Spoken”
When you say this to a Black person, you’re not praising them; rather, you’re implying that we are all the same. You are boxing us into a narrow category as if knowing one Black person gives you insight into all of us. In reality, many of you have little to no understanding of our lives or experiences. Statistics suggest that only about 25% of white individuals have friends who are people of color, so it begs the question: how well do you really know us?
If you think you have Black friends, let’s clarify what that means. Is it the coworker you share lunch with weekly? The bank teller you see occasionally? The waitress at your favorite diner? The truth is, many white people label acquaintances as friends without any real connection. If we don’t share deeper relationships—like visiting each other’s homes or being emergency contacts—then we’re not truly friends.
Understanding and Misunderstanding
This tendency to view me as an exception reinforces your ignorance. If you only get your information about Black people from the media, you’re missing the point. The narratives often depict us as lazy or criminal, which is a far cry from reality. We are ambitious and value education, family, and community. It’s not that we want to fit into your mold; we just want to be ourselves.
My ability to articulate thoughts is not a sign of being special; it’s simply how I communicate. My mother instilled in me the importance of being articulate, but she also prepared me for the challenges of navigating a world that often feels hostile. Just because you feel comfortable around me doesn’t mean I reciprocate that feeling. Trust is hard to come by, especially given the historical context of racial relations.
Many white individuals find comfort in their own circles, which may limit their understanding of different cultures. The way I speak does not define who I am or represent all Black individuals. We are complex and multifaceted. So, let’s dispel the myth that being articulate is an anomaly among Black people. Recognize our diversity and strive to truly understand who we are as individuals.
Further Resources
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Conclusion
In summary, the notion that being “well-spoken” is a compliment is misguided and rooted in a lack of understanding. It is essential to recognize and appreciate the individuality of Black voices rather than generalize based on limited experiences.