Lia J. Latty
Photographer
"I first heard the word Oreo directed at me from my friends from school. I was the only black kid in my class at a private school in North Carolina. It was meant to be a compliment in their eyes, a rite of passage, meaning that I was closer in proximity to suburban whiteness than the negative stereotypes about black people that they'd seen on TV. I "talked white" because I annunciated and was taught to speak in a way they were familiar with. I often wondered if they thought I was like them because my father was white, as if that somehow justified being stripped of my racial identity."
“Ever since middle school, I’ve always listened to alternative/indie/rock music and never rap/r&b. I never felt like I fitted in with the Black community because of that. I was always worried that if a Black person were to know the type of music I listened to they would judge me and take my Black card. It didn’t help that my dad jokes about me listening to “white people music” and say “I’m so white”. As I grew up though, I can care less ab out what artists/bands I listen to and if they want to take my black card away, go right ahead.”
“A moment that stands out to me was when I was called an “oreo” in one of my high school’s music rooms by another black girl. It was the first time I actually thought about what that meant. The way I dressed and spoke weren’t considered “Black enough”, I thought. I was also worried about the music I listened to; I wasn’t into rap and didn’t listen to music I felt other black people listened to. Even today I’m still worried about sharing my music taste because it might be considered weird for a black person to listen to the kind of music I like.”
“My experience with being compared to an Oreo deals with being interested in typically “nerdy things”, having expensive accessories and being LGBT. I’d been told time and time again that I talk white. Many of those times, I was sharing my interests in anime, Nintendo and/or other things they thought were nerdy. They noticed I didn’t use AAVE snd thought of me as less Black. My mom balanced out how often I felt bad by giving me things I really wanted. I had AirPod Pros before anyone around me, can up-to-date iPhone, and on my birthday she bought me an iPad and Apple Pencil. My classmates thought this made me bougie and white washed, despite my mom being black too. Earlier on, in elementary school, I had classmates that would dismiss my blackness because I was visibly queer. There never was a correlation between non-blackness and gender variance yet it still hurt.”
“When I was 5 years old I picked up a skateboard for the first time and fell in love with it. Growing up in West Baltimore in the early tew-thousands...Black people in my general area weren’t open-minded to new things, especially if it was a white invention. So skateboarding was a no-no. At the time the majority of my neighborhood saw/called me a “wannabe white boy”. It felt terrible that I was omitted from my community because I liked skateboarding.”
“Growing up in Pennsylvania, being 1 out of 6 or 7 other black students, talking a certain way because of your surroundings is normal! Being literate, and pronouncing words correctly is considered “talking white”. I hated it!…For a long time until I realized talking correctly and standing out is far more valuable than fitting in, and being “cool”. I didn’t like being the odd ball out, because I didn’t realize the feeling of “unique”, was the same feeling of “power”…once I discovered how powerful I was…”
“Growing up in white neighborhoods then moving to areas with almost fully Black student bodies made me really question my identity. My interests were different from those of my Black peers. I took interest in more alternative interests, like reading mystery + horror novels, playing horror based video games, and listening to genres like EDM and alt/indie bands. Once I got to middle school, I remember other Black girls in my grade judging me and making fun of me for expressing my interests. “You can tell why you don’t have any Black friends,” a peer said to me. In eighth grade, I realized I had to be “cool” and subscribe to other people’s interests, squashing my sense of self and making me more insecure. I held a lot of shame in my Black chokers, dark eye shadow, and black lipstick. I even covered my I.D. photo so no one could see. Today, I feel cooler than ever listening to EDM while I go about my day. I realized later in life being different from other Black people didn’t make me “weird”, just specific in my own interests, and that’s affirming for my inner child + identity.”
“On several occasions in different online spaces, I’d talk about my interest in anime or music or philosophy, any of my interests really, and directly after there would always be someone questioning my race or the legitimacy of my Blackness. It’s reoccurring and its probably happened to me dozens of times at this point, maybe even a hundred or over 100.”
“When I was in middle school my classmates would call me an oreo because I wasn’t interested in the same things as they were. Liking anime and reading manga were somehow “white activities”. As someone who is mixed race, these comments made me feel ashamed. I felt like I wasn’t a “real” black person as if my blackness was something I had to prove to people.”
“I am the son of two parents with Ph.D’s. This meant that education was very important in my house. When I was young we lived in Washington, D.C. and while we were there I attended private schools. Then we moved to Virginia and I attended public school for the first time. It was at public school where I heard the words “you sound white”. I remember being shocked as the word were thrown at me. I grew up learning about my ancestors and my people in general so this notion of sounding white didn’t make sense to me.
Because of this experience and more like it, I felt myself being thrown into a box of what a Black person is, does, or sounds like; and then exploring my identity within that box.
I was able to break free of this stereotype because of my HBCU. There I saw Black people being themselves freely. So, I learned to do the same.”
“The Light Saber,
White kids on the playground would tell me I couldn’t play Star Wars with them because they thought Black kids weren’t smart enough to play sci-fi games. I walked this one kid up side the head and told them, “see I can play just fine”. Of course he started crying. But after that they never told me I couldn’t play again. I know many Black characters from the Star Wars franchise and I knew where I belonged. I learned to do things on my own. Now I play Star Wars + watch Star Wars when I want…”
“It was the fitting for my junior prom dress, that day I had wore make-up that was really dark snd I had thick, sharp eyeliner, I felt so pretty. The woman who was fitting me stopped the conversation with my mom and said, ‘I don’t think that looks too flattering for you. You’re not a white girl, that’s that white people mess. Unless you’re white on the inside.’ She just kept going and it haunts me to this day.”
MICA ArtWalk documentation, May 2022
MICA ArtWalk documentation, May 2022
MICA ArtWalk documentation, May 2022
MICA ArtWalk documentation, May 2022
MICA ArtWalk documentation, May 2022
MICA ArtWalk documentation, May 2022
MICA ArtWalk documentation, May 2022