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by Stacy Dyson

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Okay, let's get clear on some things.

I'm 49, Black, female. Poet/singer/playwright, and a great lover of dogs ,Coca-Cola Classic, and dark chocolate with almonds.

I cannot stand Denzel Washington, (Blair Underwood does it for me) Oprah Winfrey strikes me as one for the biggest pains on the planet, and I have a fairly decent bluegrass collection. I do not think everything Jesse Jackson says is right, I learned how to speak correctly at home, not in school, and my hair has never been beaded, afroed or dyed blond.
I was "raised up" in church, hate grits, and know the etiquette of Southern kitchens.

And please, don't even get me started on Obama. I'm a Hillary girl through and through.

Throughout my life, there have been the wrong ideas, the stereotypes, the "expectations" because of my race. Most I shrug off, some I give the 2 seconds I give to anything that I may find mildly intriguing/ amusing, and some just annoy the living hell out of me. Because, really, folks, shouldn't we be past all that?

All I've heard since this election process started is that "race is not part of the equation". Really? Then why has it popped up, more often and more vehemently than almost any other time in my life?

I think Michael does it, I think O.J. did it, and no, I have never been in a gang, prostituted myself, or done time. Love Motown and Monet, speak standard and Ebonic English, dance and sing (not brilliantly), and swing between social strata without giving it a thought or a single nuance of trepidation. There are those poor, misguided fools who think that makes me well rounded. For a larger portion of the world than you'd think, it makes me misguided, dangerous, treacherouspick a descriptive.

This race was supposed to be about "color doesn't matter". It's supposed to be about celebrate differences, don't ignore them. Ye the rallying cry is "Aren't you excited?! We could have a Black president".

Yeah, so?

Personally, I do not want another man in the White House. I want a woman. A good woman with good ideas, who has some idea of the scene behind the scene.

But I get yelled down as a traitor for not backing Obama..not because he's the new, best hope, but because we're both people of color.

That's crazy, first of all. And secondly, why do so many people care?

I remember at the beginning of my bluegrass phase (both listening to and learning to sing), living on the bottom floor of a dub-divided Victorian downtown. My neighbors simply could not get over my choice in music. Could not get over it to the extent that, coming home one day (they were having a party), I heard a loud whisper "Yeah that's the one we told you about. The one who likes country music). As I passed their window to open my door, somebody hollered "Hey SISTER" in the most sneering, mean-spirited voice I ever heard.

Well, okay that was nearly 15 years ago and people and their perceptions change, right?

Not so much.

Last week I'm at a school in Castle Rock, answering questions after a poetry presentation. The class clown/bullyevery classroom has oneis busy giving me just enough lip to get me aggravated. "So", he sneers, tilts back his chair, gives his lip a curl, glancing from side to side to show how clever he's about to be "What's your opinion of Hillary Clinton?".

"I think she'll make an excellent president".

I don't think I've ever seen anyone so thoroughly confused. The chair come down, the know-it-all look fell off his face, and I could hear him mumbling under his breath "That's not the answer I expected", as if to reassure himself that he'd said it right, I just got my answer wrong.

I am 49, Black, female, single, and one would think, entitled to my own opinions. The price of my individuality has been not-so-good-natured jeers, ostracism, being declared everything from "traitor" to "Oreo" to well, the name calling and challenges have been a lifelong thing and I'm not going to waste time talking about them here.

Again, let's get clear on some things. I am deliriously proud of my culture and my people. I revel in the beauty and intrigue of our traditions, speech patterns, music, and way with the world. To be considered unworthy to celebrate that pride because I won't fall into lockstep is painful. And , make no mistake, it comes from both sides.

That's okay. The people who love me understand me, the people who don't , don't. I truly have enough in the one category to not be eternally injured by the other.

I am who I am by virtue of all my passions and the integrity of my choices. That makes me stronger. It makes my people stronger. Ignoring that choice, not believing in it, waiting for me to "fall in line"-well, folks what can I tell you? It's just not going to happen.

So, never mind about what you feel I should be feeling. That cannot be my concern.
The only definitions I need to hear are the ones that do my people and myself the most service. Yes, that means standing defiant and sure in the face of opinons-public, private, or fuelled by myths and half-baked history.

The proof of a people and their perseverance is the strength of their individuals. Let's hang onto that-and stop worrying about differing sensibilities, tastes, and opinions.

Except for you people who don't like Coca-Cola or dark chocolate with almonds. You know you're wrong.

Learn more about this author, Stacy Dyson.

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