Kamori Berry
“It really showed up to me in elementary school, especially when I would hang with my other Black friends. I don't really talk how a lot of them talk, so they'd be like, ‘Oh, you're whitewashed. Why do you sound white?’ When you meet all the rest of the Black kids, you [think you] finally found [your] people, and then they hear you and [ask], ‘Are you really like us?’ They question your Blackness depending on how you sound, not by your experiences. [Growing up in a predominantly white area], you kind of have to play a role to not seem like the ‘angry black woman.’ You have to know how to control a situation, to not get angry, to not be looked at as a stereotype. Sometimes, I forget myself because I'm so used to playing a role that it [becomes] hard for me to figure out which one is the true me. [In choir], we [sing] traditional African songs, like call [and response]. A lot of the white kids don't really understand the impact that it has. Right now, we're doing a song called ‘Keep Your Lamps,’ and they don't really know how to tap into [the] inner soul of it. I try to stay a little bit away from it because they ask a lot of questions, and then they make fun of the songs, so it sucks. [Being called ‘whitewashed’] hurts because it makes you question your identity. When you're younger, you're already going through a lot of identity crisis, and it sucks even more because you [think], ‘Am I too black? Am I acting too white?’ Honestly, if you're a victim of it, just know who you are and be true to yourself, and don't try to change for anybody else,” senior Kamori Berry said.