More Than What Meets The Eye

I am white. Well, Caucasian if we want to get official. I am also a man.

I am a white man.

“Mzungu, mzungu…MZUNGU!” I hear called both near and far as I walk through the village.

“Why would you be worried about having children and a wife? All white men are rich so it doesn’t matter if you have a lot of kids. You can pay for them all.” I hear when discussing the topic of wealth in my class.

“Mzungu, give me money!” I hear a group of five 14-year olds call out as I walk by.

“Mzungu, Mzungu, look over here.” I hear as a little girl waves franticly at me from across the gravel road.

In addition to hearing a lot about my skin color and the wealth that is associated with it I feel the never-ending stares. The long gazes at my strange and very different appearance as I walk into a classroom or down the road garner not double-takes but triple and even quadruple-takes as people yearn for a better look.

**Before I dive deeper into this topic I want to make sure first that everyone understands that this post is NOT supposed to be a political one that debates the issues that fill our newspapers, internet and TV screens each day. What lives matter or what racism is or is not will be for you to discuss with your friends and family. What I am trying to do is just highlight for the reader my experience as the sole white man among a black population and how we all can learn from it.

A few years back my sister, Grace, would say “settle your kettle” if I was getting upset. I don’t believe this post will make anyone upset, but if you find that you are then take my sister’s advice, grab your kettle and settle it.

 I would also encourage you to read the entire post.

---- Life as a Minority

Life as a minority is different than that of the majority. Above, I focus on the piercing eyes, misinformed and incorrect stereotypes as well as the array of hollers that come from one simple feature of my person - my skin color.

Am I the only one who has ever experienced this? No, of course not, different people with different skin colors from around the world experience this each day. Since this is the case I feel it has been good for me to live through a bit of it. I have learned what it is like and how a person of the minority may feel. A valuable lesson that will help me relate better to others.

For a white man in a black impoverished community there has been only one thing I have noticed that is associated with my skin color. Yes, you guessed it, that one thing is wealth.

---- White and Wealthy

Stereotypes and misattributions can cause a range of emotions and feelings. It can become frustrating and even a bit hurtful. Dealing with the unwanted attention and a number of preconceived ideas about my person on a daily basis is, if nothing else, tiresome.

The preconceived idea that I walk around with money falling out of my pockets is frustrating because, well, I don’t. I am sure that would be a nice feeling, though. When discussing money I try and compare the price of a mango in Tanzania to that of one in America. A mango (embe) in Tanzania costs around 25 cents (500 schilling). In America, I believe mangos to go for more than a dollar or two (2,500-4,000 schilling). So, in Tanzania, I can buy quite a few mangos. This then leads me to look quite wealthy when in reality a big part of this is simply the currency rate and exchange.

Now, do I and a lot of Americans have more money saved or available to use than many Africans? Yes, I would say we do. Though, this isn’t to say there are no Americans living in poverty, are homeless or struggling to buy food. This is where the problem arises. Many people here don’t believe there are people in America like this.

In America, if you were to focus in on just me as an individual, as an independent (eliminating my family), then I would be considered poor. That all changes when you pluck me up and place me in the middle of Tanzania’s population. Now, I would be considered wealthy. All you have to do now is associate that very small amount of wealth with my skin color and wahh-lahh the preconceived idea that all white men and women are wealthy is born.

I understand where this misguided thought comes from, though. As a nation, the United States of America is much wealthier. The U.S. has been able to grow and maintain this status. I’m not going to say our economy or government is the best, but it sure ain’t bad. So, in comparison with Tanzania, yes, our nation is wealthy, but, like I said before, just because there are a large number of white men and women in America a person’s wealth depends on much more than just their skin color.

This recount is simply my take and view on this idea of ‘white and wealthy’ that has been affixed to me for a long period of time. It is meant to help all of us realize the challenges that a person faces when we automatically attribute and idea or thought to them based on the color of their skin. Additionally, I am sure being seen as wealthy is one of the smaller challenges a person of the minority faces. There are many worse preconceived ideas that others have based on another’s skin color (just watch the news and you will see).

---- There is So Much More

I suppose what frustrates me the most about constantly being called ‘white man’ is the fact that everything else that I am gets left behind, thrown out the window or forgotten. I am no longer a Catholic, an alumnus of Saint John’s University, American, athlete, a motorcyclist, blood donor, volunteer, a funny friend or brother. The list could go on, but I am guessing you get the point.

All of these things that make up who I am are stripped away and what is left is a color.

I am white.

Now, you may be thinking, well how can someone forget that you were a blood donor or an alumnus of Saint John’s University when they did not know it in the first place? I would tell you that this is a great question and an even better point.

You cannot forget something if you never knew it was there in the first place.

What I am trying to get at is the fact that there is so much more beyond the color of a person’s skin. It may not matter to you that I like motorcycles, but it does to me. Motorcycles are great! It’s something that makes up a piece of me just like being Catholic does, but these wonderful qualities and characteristics are lost when all I am is simply a color.

It’s important to realize that each person you meet or pass by has, just like you, a bunch of great things that make up who they are. The color of their skin is just simply one part that can actually be seen, but, as we all know, there is always more than what meets the eye.

To conclude, no, I would never become angry at another person, especially a small child, for not knowing more about me other than the color of my skin. That’s okay.

Additionally, I get it, saying ‘white man’ can be an effective way to point out whom you are speaking to or about. We just need to be more careful of how we say it, what preconceived ideas we attach to the person and, finally, be fully aware that there is so much more awe-inspiring pieces beyond that of which the eye can see.

I hope I have conveyed myself well enough for all of you to understand my experience of being the minority and how it has helped me change my views and feelings. I have learned a lot and I feel all of us could benefit from an experience such as this.

If you are still caught up on what lives matter and need some help then allow me – all lives matter. 

Yours, mine, and everyone’s.

Thanks for reading!

Oh, and Grace. As much as I love your short phrases please do not revive “settle your kettle.” I can already here it in my head haha. Love you, little nugg! J