By: Tracey L. Roberts
Sitting next to her, my mind was not sharp, and I could not think clearly. It was not a competition, but I felt the adrenaline rise up in my chest. She was my new boss, but before, we were colleagues, we were on the same level and now she was my Director, above me. I heard her comments about how people were incompetent, or they were useless to the business. It stung to hear those words, even though it was not meant for me. As she steadied in her new role, she turned her laser focus on me, felt like she didn’t know what I did from day to day or my specialty. Everyone on the team had their expertise, but me, I was different, beat to my own drum. She didn’t approve of my rhythm, my aloofness and her questions of my ability made me feel inferior. I began to doubt my intelligence, fumbled my words and lost my nerve to speak freely as I once did so easily.
My mind is my most treasured object. I battle daily to beat back the black inferiority complex. In a world that has seen many advances of the African-American race, inferiority continues to plague us in ways that are detrimental to our very existence. On the surface, I may seem like I have it all together. Just like most productive people, I wake at dawn to start my day, but outside noise screams and hollers, invading my mind, trying to win. I fight, a fight, that seems like it will never end. This internal chatter continues to blow in me like the wind. Is this the day my job comes to an end? Will I be able to fit in? Inferiority just may win.
My morning ritual of local news makes me cringe at a story of, yet another young black male killed by the man in blue. He did something to break the law or was falsely accused. He’ll never get his day in court, justice forfeited. His blood spills on the streets, the concrete pavement, his death due to being inferior to you. This is nothing new. I’ve been competing with myself my entire life to be accepted by you. I gave power to your credence and let you set my guidelines for who I was to be. I would never measure up to your standards, and for that, I will never be free. Black inferiority complex is rising in me.
When I was in college, financially, it was difficult. My parents were struggling, not sure if they would have enough extra money to send with me for the next semester. My dad said through another one of his drunken stupors, “Outlive me one more year, and this here house is yours, sell it, and you’ll have the money you need to finish college.” Even with all the years of his alcoholic episodes, he knew that my mind was strong, and I had the ability to surpass them all. Education was the answer. He lost his battle with the black inferiority complex to the bottle. He was beaten down by the fight to humanize himself in the eyes of white power. He, like many, wasn’t strong enough to fight the demons of the mind that bind us. Either your mind will be strong or a weak tool, you have to choose.
Haven’t your people recovered they say? Slavery was abolished in 1865, Jim Crow laws ended 100 years later, your civil rights were finally granted. Your mind had been controlled from the first moment you set foot on this soil, through beatings, law, and religion. It was embedded in you and everyone else, that you were inferior. You couldn’t learn, no education given. You couldn’t love, no need to keep your children, stripped from you, a rekindling forbidden. Your mind not capable and definitely not equal to your counterpart that was the seed that was planted, no matter that you were a human contributor to building this nation, land of the free, but you are inferior and will always be. Not me, I’m in control of my mind and what I think of me.
For a moment in time, I forgot who I was and let weakness set in. Fortunately for me, my mind is a powerful thing. Being uncomfortable with my current situation I begin to question myself and develop a resolution. It was a simple fix, remind myself there is zero difference between you and me. I finally recognized, acknowledged, confronted, and fought inferiority’s power. My mind, my treasured gift, was worth the battle.
