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Brown Skin: Confessions of Being the "Only"

Thu, 10 Jan 2008 01:27:51 GMT

From the window of a tiny light blue house that sat on stilts was a pair of eyes staring right back at me. This caused me to pull a complete circle in the street and to my surprise I noticed that there were several people who were just observing our group. There was something in the way that they didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were looking at me as if it wasn’t anything to be sorry about. Growing up with a classic American mother I was constantly being told that it was rude to stare at people because it made them uncomfortable. It’s easy to see why staring is usually a sign of odd behavior that typically conflicts with accepted social norms. This gawking is usually accompanied with several judgments that are drawn from the individual’s brief observations. In Belize the feeling wasn’t disturbing in the least, I was well aware that I was being watched but it didn’t seem to bother me in the same way as it did back home. The Belizeans staring seemed more about being naturally curious about us as visitors to their country. It was funny to think that I was the strange oddity that was being watched. It was the first time in my life that I was the only one of my race in the area and to be honest it felt weird. The funny thing is that Belize is sort of a melting pot of various different racial identities there are Africans, Mayans, and Caribbean people or Carribs. Everyone was various shades of brown and to an unassuming looker seemed the same each complete with various shades of brown. Being what my friends have called ghostly pale I stuck out like a sore thumb. This was the first time that I a middle class boy from Maine really started to think about what it means to be white or Caucasian. I started to imagine how so many people of color can stand this feeling of standing out in our dominantly white school. I mean I was uncomfortable but this only had to last for a week I couldn’t imagine living my life constantly being looked at and examined for differences an

car mirror

Mon, 07 Jan 2008 23:11:17 GMT

Friends not meant to be lovers
Lovers not meant to be friends
A boy so confused over the his thoughts
Sinful thoughts race across his mind
Why is it that he cant shake this rhyme?
It is the boy
The one with the corn flower hair
He shapes and dances through the air
So light
So agile
So fearless
Except for the love he feels for another
God couldn’t have created a worse problem than that

To you I gave my trust
To you I lost my heart
Judgment made a choice
That altered this world
Two lives changed forever
Friends not meant to be lovers
Lovers not meant to be friends

To air is human to forgive divine
Forgiving a fool
Is best left to thine
Friends not meant to be lovers
Beyond his control
In a world with so much pain
Please tell me I still have you
Lovers not meant to be friends

Dream Re-Write

Thu, 03 Jan 2008 18:00:05 GMT

We could leave no evidence of an affair, no letters, no phone calls, not even being seen talking to one another without a purpose. The rumors that would circulate in our small town would mean having to admit to feelings that we weren’t prepared to deal with nor was anyone in our circle of friends. There were nights when he would come to my window at midnight to whisk me away in his Ford Ranger to our secret spot overlooking the lake. Conversation would start out me telling him that I couldn’t go on acting like friends, him responding “we are victims of our circumstances.” Leaning across the seat he took my chin in between his fingers and guided my mouth towards him. I could feel the heat radiate from his blood as it warmed my body and his. We surrender to our instincts, and live in sin for what seems like an eternity.

Half Boyfriend

Wed, 02 Jan 2008 20:19:13 GMT

Half-Boyfriend

My “affair” with Steve lasted for almost two of the three years that he was exclusively dating a mutual friend's younger sister. I hate having to use the word affair to describe our relationship: affair entails a sexual fling and that simply wasn’t what happened. We were elaborate; feelings were felt although they were never admitted to one another. I believe even to this day that he knew I was in love with him, and maybe perhaps he was also in love with me. However, it wasn’t until the summer before my senior year and his first year in college that our relationship truly began to blossom. There were nights when he would come to my window at midnight to whisk me away in his Ford Ranger to our secret spot overlooking the lake. Those were the only times when anything would be uttered about our relationship, as if the blanket of night was the only place safe enough to talk. The conversation would start out in a variety of ways but it would always end the same: me telling him that I couldn’t go on acting like friends with these feeling inside me. He responded by looking out his windshield to the black and blue water before us, scanning the horizon for answers to my question. The answer was always the same; nothing could ever truly happen between us. “We are victims of our circumstances,” he would utter and start the truck.

Assingment 1

Wed, 02 Jan 2008 20:16:07 GMT

Assignment 1

1. Realizing at thirteen years old during a swim meet that I was in fact gay and then also realizing that it was something I may have to hide. This was pivotal in realizing my identities conflict with other people’s opinions.

2. Trying to pretend that my boyfriend in high school Steve was actually my friend. This is when I discovered homosexual relationships have problems when one is more in touch with their identity than the next.

3. Coming out to my mother several times and having her tell me that I didn’t look gay. This made me look and wonder if I truly match my identity on the outside.