Fact of Blackness by Frantz Fanon :: personal response essay

â€Å"The Fact of Blackness† by Frantz Fanon   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  This article was an eye opener. After Fanon got away from the huge mind boggling words, I kind of felt for an extremely short second what it actually felt to be a black man. I myself am a unique mixture of races and I was fortunate to have grown up in such a way that I experienced my two main cultures vividly. I can laugh with George Lopez, and feel the pain, anguish, and laughter that are associated with a Mexican American heritage. The same goes for Larry the Cable Guy, I can laugh at what he says in his stand comedy routine, because I can relate with my Anglo culture. Going back to how Fanon explains his anguish of being labeled, it’s understandable, I’ve been there, but unlike Fanon, I learned to how to run with racial comments. However, I’m not black and cannot relate to his culture, or how bad for his time it must have been for an average black male.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  I start with saying blah. I cannot in my mind imagine what it was for Fanon growing up, but he never embraces love for who his is. The racial slurs and dehumanization is in my opinion not reason enough to write hatred for what you are born into. Not once does he state philosophy on why it’s ok to be what he is. Instead he places himself into an â€Å"infernal circle† that he is embraced by white people in spite that he is black, but when he has an enemy they claim that it is so not because he is a black man.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  My own experiences tell me that every bit of what he says is true. I work at an inner city Walgreen’s, and I’m told to watch certain people because they look suspicious, when in fact the only crime they commit is being a minority. I’m sometimes told to not spend too much time on a Mexican customer, because they don’t contribute enough money to our store, and to focus on our money crazed white customers, who never get questioned opening up products. I used to get stopped In Walgreen’s when I was a freshman in High School. I had to leave my back pack at the door and only one of my companions could come with me at a time. However, I would see plain as day, white students walking in the store at leisure with their book bags on.