Fact of Blackness by Frantz Fanon :: personal response essay

The Fact of Blackness by Frantz Fanon This article was an eye opener. afterwards Fanon got a expressive style from the huge forefront boggling words, I kind of felt for an exceedingly short second what it actually felt to be a low-spirited man. I myself am a unique mixture of races and I was rose-colored to have gr testify up in such a way that I experienced my two main cultures vividly. I can put-on with George Lopez, and feel the pain, anguish, and laughter that are associated with a Mexican American heritage. The same(p) goes for Larry the Cable Guy, I can laugh at what he says in his stand comedy routine, because I can relate with my Anglo culture. Going buns to how Fanon explains his anguish of organism labeled, its understandable, Ive been there, but unlike Fanon, I learned to how to run with racial comments. However, Im not unrelenting and cannot relate to his culture, or how bad for his time it must have been for an add up black male.I start with saying blah. I canno t in my mind imagine what it was for Fanon growing up, but he never embraces love for who his is. The racial slurs and dehumanization is in my opinion not reason enough to carry through hatred for what you are born into. Not once does he situate philosophy on why its ok to be what he is. Instead he places himself into an infernal circle that he is embraced by colour pot in spite that he is black, but when he has an resistance they claim that it is so not because he is a black man. My own experiences tell me that every bit of what he says is true. I work at an inner city Walgreens, and Im told to watch certain people because they look suspicious, when in fact the only crime they commit is being a minority. Im sometimes told to not spend besides much time on a Mexican customer, because they dont contribute enough money to our workshop, and to focus on our money deranged white customers, who never get questioned opening up products. I employ to get stopped In Walgreens when I was a fledgling in High School. I had to leave my back pack at the door and only one of my companions could come with me at a time. However, I would see plain as day, white students walking in the store at leisure with their book bags on.