
Even though you've been raised as a negro, you are not one of them. They can be a great people Kal-El, they wish to be. They lack only the light to show them the way. For this reason above all, I have sent them you, my only son.
It happened again today: My mutant power ruined what would have otherwise been a perfect day. I called my bank about a problem with my account and the lady on the phone was extremely friendly. She told me to come in and that's when the problem arose. As soon as I got there, I got "the look." I get "the look" everytime I go in for a job interview after talking to someone on the phone. It's the look that says, "Oh my god, you sounded White on the phone."
While she was pregnant, my mother was exposed to radiation while standing next to a White man. It altered my genetic code, leaving me with the ability to code switch. I'm not the only one of my kind, but with our identities being secret, I rarely know who else has the gift.
It's kinda like that thing that the Hulk has...except in reverse. If I go out to Bethesda or some other place with few Black people, my mutant power triggers. I can't help myself: The "pimp" in my step that all Black men have turns into a bounce, the scowl on my face that keeps crackheads at bay in the hood turns into a smile and even my clothes change. My North Face coat and jeans turn into a Polo coat and Dockers.
It's not just my outward appearance either. I watch Charlie Rose, listen to NPR and actually enjoy going to the National Art Gallery once a month. That means that my conversations go a little different than you'd expect from a Black guy in a hoodie and jeans.
Now, this mutant power works both ways. You can't enjoy the works of Thomas Cole without getting some flack from your ghetto counterparts. Years of being "the nerd" in DC Public School taught me to blend in. I've learned how to hit reverse on the code switch button. You can't pull into the parking lot of Forestville or Iverson Mall blasting classical music. You'll get "got." So, that's when knowing every Jay-Z and T.I. song comes in handy. Those Dockers turn back into jeans REAL quick. My speech slurs, my walk becomes more purposeful and I look over my shoulder a lot. I also keep my fists balled up and have the "nigga please" look on my face. That's how I get in and out of the Chinese carryout in one piece.
I run into a few other code-switchers from time to time. I've even encountered some who were so good at it that it took months to see through them. It's a secret society, all we ask is trust.
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