Throughout college, there were rarely a lot of books I took interest in reading. Oh, I know it seems like sin to say that especially being an English major for four and a half years, but it’s the god honest truth. It’s not that I didn’t like reading books of different genres; it was just the fact that I loved reading books that involved science fiction or mystery. But the second half of my sophomore year, that changed when I read the book “Passing” by Nella Larsen. I read this book for a group project with little knowledge about it but it ended up being one of the best novels I have ever read.

To give you a brief summary on what it is about, “Passing” basically revolves around the friendship of two biracial black women during the 1920s. One protagonist (Irene) is biracial but favors more with her black side while the other protagonist (Clare) is biracial but favors more with her white side. Since it is set in the 1920s where black people had little privileges, Clare favors more with her white side because she feels like she can have better opportunities if she did. The even crazier part about it is that she is married to a white man who hates black people, but since she is so fair skinned from being mixed Clare doesn’t tell him she is half black. I thought this book was amazing because not only does it speak to biracial people, but it just speaks to people who have trouble with racial identity.

I’m not even biracial and felt like this book spoke to me so much. Maybe it’s because the fact that I never felt like I fit in anywhere. Growing up, I was raised around all black people and grew up around black culture, but since I liked “nerdy” things like reading comics and watching anime I was seen by some black people as being “white." Then going to a predominately white college when I hung around white people, I felt like I fully couldn’t be myself when it came to expressing my black side because in some white people eyes it was seen as “ghetto.” Like seriously? I didn’t know loving rap music and talking with slang meant that I was ghetto. Truth be told I felt like that outcast looking in both windows but never being accepted. It’s like the rapper Earl Sweatshirt said in one song: “Too white for the black kids and too black for the white kids."

What’s worse is that I always felt pressure to have to prove myself as a black person. I had to prove to black people that I was “down” enough and I had to prove to white people that I wasn’t the stereotypical black person they’re used to seeing on FOX news. Honestly it was such an exhausting challenge because it felt like people try and force you to pick a side. What I love the most about this novel is the final message it tries to give people who struggle with racial identity. That you don’t have to prove sh#t to anyone! It doesn’t matter if some black people don’t see you as “black enough” because at the end of the day, you are black and will be treated like a black person by everyone else in the world. It also doesn’t matter what white people think about you because you can be a strong and intelligent black person and also love your black culture. So if anyone tries to tell you different just do what I do. Say f#ck em’. Peace.