Skinny White Girl

To elaborate on an earlier post...
A paper I wrote for my English class, I don't care if you like it, agree with it, or whatever. Maybe it'll serve as some entertainment. Who knows...
Humans feel the need to classify people, not many know why.  It’s how the mind works. If some one or something doesn’t fit into at least one category, the mind goes into crisis mode because it cannot place an individual into a group. Many people disagree with the classification or discrimination of others; however, judgment on a person’s race, color, religion, sexual orientation, gender, and size occurs at the moment one notices another and cannot be avoided. First impressions are not always correct but for the most part, they are.  Society must be able to recognize though, that there are people that have the traits of a specific quality, but may not fit the standards. I was placed on this Earth to fight the stereotype placed against my people. I, as a Caucasian, young woman am discriminated against and I do not meet the spoiled, perfect, and wealthy standards of the “Skinny, white girl,” stereotype.  

I only wish that I were as spoiled as I’m assumed to be.  Many times I have been confronted about my laptop, an Apple Macbook Pro. “Did your daddy buy that for you?” my oppressor tauntingly asks. “No, he didn’t. I paid for it.” His/ her shocked face is always priceless, as I continue to tell them that I actually paid for my truck also and regularly pay for the normal expenses such as: toiletries, gas, prescriptions, clothes, and schooling. My clothes are from everyday stores. I could care less about brand names and whether or not my clothes are “so last season.” It does not matter if one’s purse is from Louis Vuitton, Dolce & Gabbana, or any other useless designer. Would my future employers care if I owned a Michael Kors garment from his fall collection? Doubtful, if anything, they’d be turned off and stereotype me into the group of spoiled girls. Those who are spoiled and brag about how their daddy spends more money on them than himself are materialistic and shallow. I refuse to let myself sink that low. I am financially dependent on my parents, but I demand to be given credit for the things that I do purchase and how I carry myself.

I have accepted that I am not anything remotely close to perfect. Like all other humans, I have many flaws.  I tend to be too kind and my so- called friends take advantage of my submissiveness. My ACT score was above average but nowhere close to the scores of those attending Ivy League colleges and universities. I don’t think before I act. My sister and I can’t ever seem to get along. I pick at my hair.  I’ll never be on the Victoria’s Secret runway or on the cover of Glamour magazine. Like the majority of college students, I procrastinate until the night before a test or major project. My truck has barely been able to pass inspection because I’m procrastinating to buy a new exhaust system. I have bad breath in the morning and many dark freckles. I have an addiction to Twizzler’s. I’m as stubborn as a bull.  On top of it all, I can’t seem to go one day without tripping over myself, running my shoulder into a wall, choking on my own saliva, or overall, just embarrassing myself in front of someone. I am aware of yet, comfortable with my imperfections because I know whom I am and I know that I’m doing my best.

            Some may argue that my family is upper- middle class, however we are included in the working- class status. My parents have worked hard all their lives to create the life we live. My dad has worked two jobs for as long as I can remember and my mom puts more hours into her job than is expected by her boss. At times, my dad would work three 24- hour shifts consecutively because of his two paramedic positions.  My grandparents were waitresses, garbage men, and farmers who all possessed addictions that kept them from a more privileged life. The generations before my parents gave birth to all of their children before the age of eighteen. My mom was the first to graduate college in her family. I will be the first of my family to graduate from college immediately after high school. I come from a family full of hard- workers. My family’s life was not handed to them and would be completely different if they had been content with what was given to them.

The amount of times I’ve been referred to, as a “Skinny, white girl” is incalculable. I am not better than any other human being out there nor do I think of myself to be.  Am I grateful for the life I have? Absolutely, I’m better off than the majority of people on this Earth and I would not ask for more. I actually ate my peas when my grandmother reminded me that children in Africa did not have as much as I did. Do I have everything? Not at all, at least not as much as I’m assumed to have. Each status and stereotype has its differences and its own conflicts that it’s inhabitants must cope with. Stereotypes are there for a reason but are not always correct. Those who are aware of their flaws should work to reduce the severity. I deserve recognition for the work that I have put into myself against the spoiled, perfect, and wealthy girls that have burdened me with the task of disproving this stereotype.