Focus On…Melanin
INTERIOR. LOTTE WORLD AMUSEMENT PARK- DAY
A group of students in highschool and college make their way through a never ending line to get to the Paris Revolution roller coaster. Within this endless line, are some foreigners who stick out like sore thumbs.
Some teenage boy tapped my shoulder and asked for a picture. I smile under my mask and tell the group I’m with to smile. There was no shot I’d be taking this picture by myself. I'd love to say that I feel honored that someone wanted to take a picture with me but it can feel awkward at times.
To deny my awkwardness, would be denying my feelings.When you’re Black abroad- people notice. I’m 6’3 with a popping afro, so I can’t exactly disappear. Nore, do I really want to. As I’m waiting in line, I notice these Korean teenage girls looking at me. At first, I didn’t want to say anything but was like damn why not strike up a conversation. I bust out the best annyeonghaseyo I can muster. That’s Korean for “hello”.They giggle and reply back to me in English and say “Hi, my friends saw you”. Immediately, I’m looking around like, there’s no way they could have seen me.You mean to tell me at one of the largest indoor amusement parks in the world your friends just happened to see me? I may have been the only Black man there at the time or it could have been another Black guy and they just assumed it was me. Regardless of what actually transpired that day, the fact that those girls felt inclined to share that with me was mind boggling. Let’s say I’d spoken to some other girls earlier that day,than It’d make sense that there could be some slight chance that I could run into her friends. However, that wasn’t the case.
I walked away from that experience with a bold reminder that people are watching me and that any sense of discretion I had was gone. I’ve had people assume I don’t need sunscreen, say I sound like Obama, and say my hair looks “creative”. I’m sure if I actually thought about it more than I’d discover more moments like that.Going back to the “Obama” comment. I arrived at the housing lobby of my dorm and one of the supervisors said that my voice had reminded him of Obama. It’s moments like these you just really have to take things with a grain of salt. Do I think he was trying to hurt me with his words? Definitely not. To be Black abroad, is to be representative of a whole people yet still discovering what exactly my identity means to me individually and on a global scale.
I do my best to not take things personally because if I sat there and overanalyzed every experience I’d never be able to enjoy my time studying abroad. However, I’d be remiss to neglect the positives that come with being Black abroad. First in my family to study abroad. First in my family to go to Asia and South Korea specially. Repeatedly gifted by a middle aged man who calls himself “Bruce Lee” free plum pastries from his shop. A toddler who decided to fistbump me at the Seoul Tower. The smile of an elderly Korean women as we squeeze to fit into an elevator. One month into my Seoul searching and I wear my sunkissed melanin with pride.
