The Color Purple Monologue

“Scratcher!” they yelled, “You’re an African booty scratcher!” I shook my head furiously desperate to empty my mind of their scornful words. Being born in The Democratic Republic of Congo made me somewhat of an outcast at school. While my classmates acknowledged that people have different cultural backgrounds they mocked me for taking pride in my culture. In their opinion assimilation was the key to being accepted in the world of elementary school. “ We have an assembly today,” my teacher said eagerly, “ A group of dancers from Kenya will be visiting our school, and they will educate us on African culture.” Upon hearing those words my head began to pound and my chest rose and fell with uneasy breathes. I bowed my head and their hateful words crept back into my mind “Scratcher! Scratcher! You’re an …show more content…
I closed my eyes and imaged the scorn that would follow their coming from my fellow peers. They would base all their opinions by the impression that would be made by the group of Kenyans. The dancers were dressed in traditional attire and had accents when they spoke. Simple words such as Peter became “Pe-e-taa”, water became “Woo-aa-ta.” With or without intention I feared my classmates would think that Kenya was the only country in Africa and that all African spoke and behaved as Kenyans. I feared that they would be displeased by the dancers and continue to mock me for wanting to retain my culture. As they performed I placed my head in my arms silently crying, because for the first time I was ashamed to be African. Eyes closed I tried in a vain attempt to tune out the music of my people, too embarrassed to be associated with African culture at that moment. As I wallowed in my self-pity I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder, one of my classmates Aida pointed to the stage and said “Look.” I glanced up cautiously afraid that I would see people