In the past 4 and half almost 5 months, I’ve been in what I like to call “a trophy on display.”
From Asia to now Africa, I quickly learned that if you are from America, whether that be black, hispanic, or white, if the phrase “I’m from America” comes out, you’re automatically white.
It’s crazy what the world thinks of us “white people”. They treat us like celebrities. You might be reading this and say “well I wish I was treated like that everyday.”
Trust me you don’t.
It’s like we are on a show case wherever we go. This invisible pedestal has been placed under our feet and can’t quite find our way down from it. It’s become annoying and hard when EVERYONE, yes literally every person we pass on the streets and either
A. Stops and stares for seconds on end
B. Wants to take a picture with us just because we are white.
The world’s view of us is money. How did this so called “American dream” that once was about family and white picket fences turn into a green dollar sign. That’s all they see on this side of the world. When they beg, it’s out an extra effort because they have this idea of us “American white people” being so rich that it’s almost our job to give away everything to these countries. Markets and even grocery stores hike up their prices if we come alone without our hosts. It’s honestly quite sad.
Over the past 5 months and 2 contents, I’ve been asked to negotiate behind vans, been told by a group of older men how gorgeous we all are, I’ve been shouted from across the rail road track how he loved me then tried to get closer to hold my hand. Little kids come up and stroke our arms just to touch us because we are American. Not so much fun right?
So.. what have I learned in my time of being on the field? This trophy case, this display all 40 of us are on, it’s not fun honestly. Some days a few of us just get so fed up by being starred at all day long and getting asked to take a MILLION photos because our skin color portrays something they want. But on the days where I’m being hit on because I have blue eyes, white skin, and am from the rich land of America, it hits me that these people, these lost broken people still need love. They don’t need money, they don’t need the American dream that so often even us Americans try to chase after.
They simply need to be loved.
