Shah Ahmed Atta
ERPID: 09306

Once I Was Embarrassed, Now I am Proud
Character: Black Female in Pakistan

Once I was embarrassed. I was embarrassed of the individual I was and the values that I symbolized merely because I stood apart. I had no awareness of self-respect. At the young age of eleven, I was in the phase of self-discovery. My skin complexion was too dark. My wavy brown hair didn’t have the flow of the other children. I didn’t fit in anywhere. It was depressing to feel like an outcast. Despite how innocent they may seem, eleven year olds can be cruel to one another.
The children spurned me, unconscious of what they were doing. My ears rang with racially disrespectful phrases such as “You look like a Kawwa [Crow],” or “You’ve got the colors of a bat.” Their mirth provoked me long past school hours. I cried endlessly and declined to go to school each subsequent day. All of peers being lighter than me, I sought desperately for individuals that were like to me in appearance, I know, I was wrong but I realize that now. I relentlessly had to battle to be accepted in with different groups of people. I so desperately craved acknowledgment. But, no matter how hard I tried, my efforts were in vain. The other kids saw that I was unusual and shunned me for that exact reason.
As I grew older the level of insult intensified. Vicious and harsher things were being said to me as the children became more conscious of my diversity. The situation, as much as I had desired that it would windup, it only deteriorated. Black children in Karachi when I was growing up, were a rarity, we were easily recognized as well as targeted. By the time I had turned fourteen, I had mislaid every scrap of pride that I had. The mocking instigated a vivid decline in my confidence. Although I had an exclusivity that countless individuals wished for, I couldn’t even realize the worth of it.

Now I am Proud. After numerous slow years of mental and emotional mutilation, I have finally shattered loose from the negative scripts placed upon my life. I had to reeducate myself to acknowledge who I was. My ebony skin twinkles and my previously stringy waves, gleam. I have matured into the majestic splendor that I have held all along. The gashes have traced much further than skin deep and were much beyond scars.
About the time that I gained self-confidence, Black children became the new “thing”. Upon touching high school, I was no longer considered a communal outcast. I started to identify the concept of respecting myself. Eventually, the community began respecting and accepting me for who I was. I have accepted the fact that I am Black. Spiritually I am black, white, brown and yellow, I am you and him and her and every other person in this world, because suffer is not unique to any race or religion. I don’t need to fit into a certain group, category, or stereotype. I also don’t have to look the way people around me do. I am different, and I am beautiful because I am different. This was an important concept for me to grasp because it was essential to me gaining back my self-confidence.
I have the best of both worlds. People still try to categorize me. I have gained pride for my ethnicity, as well as their accomplishments and their strength. My people have made history, such as Barack Obama making us the first minority to hold presidential office. Individuals such as he have given me pride and made me hopeful of the great things that I’ll be capable to achieve for the Black community in Pakistan.