Personal Narrative: Growing Up As A Black Girl

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Growing up as a Black girl in America, I faced challenges that shaped my identity and self-perception in profound ways. In sixth grade, I became the target of bullying for my natural hair, a source of both pride and insecurity. Classmates who shared my skin complexion would mock me, calling me names like “You have no hair,” “You’re too ugly,” or the most bewildering, “You’re not even Black.” This hurt deeply, especially since I was often the lightest-skinned Black person in the room, with short, afro-textured hair that didn’t fit the mold of what was deemed acceptable. Reflecting on my mixed heritage, I often wondered how my white father felt raising a light-skinned daughter with the same textured hair that other children with darker skin would …show more content…

I took their words to heart, believing them when they said I wasn’t beautiful. Though I took pride in my identity as a person of color, I became ashamed of my hair. This shame led me to hide who I was, as I felt that my natural beauty was not valued. My 4C hair shrinks when wet, defies styling conventions, and often evokes comments from others that reinforce stereotypes. I remember a specific moment when a boy told me, “I’m sorry, I just don’t like Black girls.” I couldn’t help but wonder if he would feel the same if I had straight hair or a different skin tone. These experiences led me to question my worth and beauty in a world that often equates value with conformity to Eurocentric standards. One particular day stands out vividly in my memory. It was the second to last day of fourth grade, and our teacher, Mrs. King, asked if anyone wanted to bring in a movie. I excitedly volunteered and brought “Sing.” As I sat next to my crush, Freddy—a typical white boy with blond hair and blue eyes—I found myself lost in thoughts of comparison. Would he look at me the same way if I had the flowing hair I admired in

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