More Than Just A Comment: Microaggressions are a big issue and they should be recognized and responded to always, instead of being overlooked and disregarded

I stood in line at the Fairway Hen House, waiting to pay for the can of tomato sauce that my mom needed for dinner when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Wow sweetie, your skin is so pretty and exotic.”

Turning to face a bubbly middle-aged white woman whom I’ve never met before, I plastered on a smile and replied with a forced “thank you.”

The grin on the woman’s face was so genuine that I knew she called me “exotic” as a compliment. But white, blonde, blue-eyed girls aren’t the only people in America, there’s nothing different, exotic or foreign about my skin color. And being called something that I’ve only heard used to describe fruit, tropical locations and animals feels dehumanizing. 

Growing up Black in the Kansas City area where 71% of the population is white, according to Data USA, means grappling with microaggressions. Mocking stereotypes, the assumptions I’m not as smart as my white peers and the suspicious stares when entering a store may not seem significant individually but the key about microaggressions is that they add up. They shouldn’t be considered the norm due to the impact constant discrimination, no matter how big, has on people of color.

I should’ve said something.

But before I could decide whether to speak out against the woman’s comment or walk away, her hands were on my head, fingers running through my dark curls. She gushed about my “unique” appearance.

I just smiled and nodded, as if I wasn’t being treated like some exhibit at the petting zoo.

The subtlety of microaggressions makes responding to them complicated. It’s often seen as overreacting or being a “snowflake” for getting offended by something so “small.”

I never want to cause a scene. It’s always easier to just stay quiet.

Target employees will follow me around the store like I’m about to pull off the biggest heist of the year, and I’ll just put my head down and make sure to keep my hands out of my pocket.

I’ll laugh awkwardly after someone tells me I’m “acting white” for enjoying activities like debate or writing. I can’t remember how many times I’ve thanked someone for making a surprised comment about how “well-spoken” I am when I just speak the same way I’ve spoken my entire life. 

I just walk away when kids at school make jokes about my favorite food being fried chicken. I simply ignore the obvious stares in class whenever the continent of Africa is mentioned as if I’m about to start preaching about the motherland. 

Though seemingly innocent, microaggressions always dampen my self-esteem. I’ve lived in Kansas my entire life, and though I might not look the same as all my classmates, I am proud to be a part of the community. These small actions make me feel degraded and excluded— they reinforce the idea that I am regrettably different, that I don’t belong no matter what I do— and that angers me.  

I don’t want to be seen as the “angry black girl” who makes everything about race but this treatment isn’t fair and it isn’t right. My white counterparts have the privilege to be seen and viewed based on their actions whereas my identity is constantly invalidated by my race. When people just dismiss these invalidations it just allows others to think that they’re okay and that people of color don’t deserve basic respect.

Microaggressions have become so ingrained in daily interactions that they’ve become a twisted social norm. It’s wrong that marginalized individuals are expected to just accept these subtle jabs and move on with their everyday lives.

Ignorant jokes, casual remarks or poorly phrased questions can seem especially insignificant when compared to discrimination like hate crimes and slurs.

I used to think that microaggressions weren’t worth getting upset about. At least not when there were instances of people getting brutally attacked just because of the color of their skin — who cares if I have to deal with a little ignorance?

But the constant jabs at my identity add up. Just because I’m not being called a slur or dealing with hate crimes doesn’t mean I should just accept microaggressions as a normal part of life. Being offended by microaggressions doesn’t make me hypersensitive or a “snowflake.”

I’m not reaching for the stars, I deserve to be treated with the same dignity and respect as anyone else, I shouldn’t have to settle for subtle prejudice just because there are worse possible situations.

I need to work on speaking up against microaggressions and turning my awkward laughs into, “It’s actually not okay to say that.” 

It’s hard, but I urge other minorities to challenge themselves as well. But the conversation shouldn’t end there, if a person points out that you committed a microaggression there’s no need to be defensive, you can just say, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize that was offensive.”

Use the experience to learn about the implications of your actions and why the microaggression was discriminatory. Ask sincere questions if you don’t understand someone else’s culture. And never call a person “exotic.”