Personal Narrative: My Journey To Dunbar High School

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“You’re just a white girl trapped inside a black body,” were words I heard repeatedly as a child. For the longest time I considered those words a compliment. As an African American girl native to the Congo, I was naïve enough to think this statement meant how fully immersed with American culture my appearance, language, and every aspect of my personality was becoming. To me, those words held acceptance from my American friends and families—the only imaginable thing any foreign child yearns for. It hadn’t occurred to me that underneath that statement hid a message very twisted that would follow me for the next 12 years of my life.
Surprisingly, it all started with my church. My family came to the United States (US) when I was four with the help of Immanuel Baptist.
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Most thought of it as the opposite of BSHS. However, the district that my parents settled in changed from Dunbar to BSHS and before I knew it, BSHS had made itself my home.
However, BSHS was not as bad as it was made to be. Our school held a nationally recognized Spanish Immersion Program with members of it being white and black. Many of the students who received outstanding Grade Point Average recognitions were also African Americans. Coming the end of Senior year, we had a few African Americans who had received amazing scholarships to Ivy League schools. Despite these accomplishments, people believed the news first and continued to stereotype and encourage our school’s reputation.
Every time I was asked which high school I attended, everyone seemed shocked with my answer. Most were in disbelief, assuming Dunbar. In their eyes, my articulate speech and my attitude didn’t resonate with being a student as BSHS. They had looks plastered to their faces, usually skeptical of BSHS and the mere fact that their existed African Americans who were well-behaved and respectful within that

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