In the world we live in, the mantra often seems to be “Fake it till you make it.” However, reflecting on one of the readings about Serena Williams led me to ponder many incidents beyond the realm of sports. I feel that in our society, people of color often find themselves compelled to suppress their true selves and hold back their authenticity.

I remember a particular incident at an airport lounge. I was dressed comfortably in a tracksuit and sneakers when I entered, amidst mostly Caucasian individuals. As I approached the front desk for check-in, I consciously altered my way of speaking, adopting a more proper tone. Even before I reached the desk, I could sense the judgmental glances directed towards me, as if I didn’t belong or appeared lost. The looks from the others sharing the same space with me were palpable. Nonetheless, I continued to enjoy the amenities I had paid for, just like everyone else.

As I exited the lounge to board my flight, they announced, “Accepting group one passengers at this time, you may use lane number one.” I promptly joined the line, but a crew member approached me, saying, “Sir, this line is for first-class passengers only. Could you please wait until they call your group number?” I felt embarrassed and questioned why I was subjected to such scrutiny. I was no different from the other passengers, except for the color of my skin. I showed her my ticket, and she seemed embarrassed in return. She began to interact with me differently, striking up a conversation about my destination and such. I held my head high and continued to fake it just to board the flight.

Once on board, I noticed that I was the only black person in the first-class cabin, and I still didn’t feel like I truly belonged. It wasn’t until I encountered a flight attendant of color serving me that I felt at ease. We shared a laugh and discussed our destination, creating a sense of comfort.

Throughout the flight, I relaxed and enjoyed myself. However, twenty minutes before landing, while in the bathroom, I heard a knock on the door. The flight attendant outside accused me, saying, “Sir, are you smoking in there? It smells like smoke, sir!” I exited the bathroom, and he continued, “Sir, you cannot smoke on board; it is illegal.” As a black man in front of a cabin full of Caucasian passengers, I maintained my composure and remembered my surroundings. I politely responded, explaining that I had not been smoking, and someone before me might have sprayed something. I found it rather absurd but chose not to react further. After apologizing, the flight attendant mentioned that he was just doing his job, clarifying that only flight attendants were allowed to spray in the cabin. In my mind, I couldn’t help but think this was an unreasonable situation. He then mentioned the possibility of reporting the incident and opening a case, emphasizing that it could jeopardize either one of us.

I remained unfazed by the situation, but I couldn’t help but wonder if a Caucasian passenger would have received the same treatment as me. This brings me back to the reading about Serena Williams and how she had to navigate her reactions when competing. As a black man in first class, I believe that had I reacted negatively, I would likely have faced more severe consequences, possibly involving the involvement of the Sky Marshal, and being unfairly labeled as a “typical black man.”

In conclusion, I believe that in the world we inhabit, we often feel compelled to “fake it till we make it.” I’m reminded of the case of a professional soccer player who faced racial abuse, including being called a monkey and having bananas thrown at him. Yet, when he performed well, he received praise. This underscores the notion that, in this world, we must often present a false version of ourselves to gain acceptance. Our true selves can only be expressed when we are at home or among like-minded individuals.

Growing up in a multicultural household, my definition of “normal” was always different from everybody else’s. How people dress, act, talk, what kids my age would pack for lunch, it was all so different from mine. Not only that, the media we consumed was so different from the rest of the world.

I remember the biggest difference I noticed between my two cultures (one being my parents in the Philippines and the other my life with them in America) was the beauty standards that were placed on society. When I was younger I would visit the Philippines a lot to see my grandparents and the rest of my family, and the one thing that shocked me most was the aisles in the grocery store, or the cabinets at my aunt’s house filled with whitening products. I didn’t understand why people wanted to whiten their skin so badly that there were pills and soaps all marketed for whitening skin. It wasn’t to “brighten” skin, but to quite literally “whiten.” My dad was always on the darker side and always embraced it, especially living in the US people would always compliment his “tan” and tell him that it was really nice. Going out to beaches or grocery stores there are shelves with different tanning oils, lotions, anything to help with becoming more tan so my visits in the Philippines shocked me.

It wasn’t until I was older when I realized these products had deeper meaning. The lighter your skin was, the better people could treat you. Tanning in the US was only beneficial when you’re white and didn’t have to experience colorism and racism, and beauty standards only benefitted certain people. Thankfully, I was fortunate to grow up in different countries and states due to my dads job so I didn’t really understand standards like that. I was able to see different perspectives and grew up to be able to differentiate my rights from wrong so going to the Philippines and seeing the aisles of whitening products didn’t make me insecure or feel the need to be pale. Instead, it allowed me to see perspective on things that I once did not understand. My lived experiences allowed me to understand differences and cultural norms even if the intention was not right.

There are so many ways and things that a body represents. For starters, a body can be seen as an object, something that people use for artwork, such as dancing, an inspiration for a different form of art, etc. Also, they can be seen as something sacred to others. This can be a thing mainly for religion but for me, I am not religious, but I still view my body as an entity that I want to protect and shield from others. Other people are the opposite of me, and they love to show off their bodies. To a doctor, a body is seen as a system, with thousands of moving parts in it, and different bodily things. I think the perspective of a body is the identity of the person. Someone who is Muslim would view their bodies in a different way versus someone who maybe is Christian, or Jewish. That is just religion though, there are many portions of a persons identity that determines their perspective on what a body is.

For me specifically, I am an agender, nonreligious person who is a dancer. Being in a very biological sex-specific environment while being agender has affected the way I define what a body is. Being put in situations where I have to wear costumes that don’t fit my gender identity and being treated as my biological sex, it’s taught me to be more protective of my body, and not allowing anyone to force me to wear clothes that causes me to experience gender dysphoria, or put me in a position that forces me to represent an identity that I am not. The way that I define what a body is, is something that you shouldn’t take for granted, something that is special to you, something you should protect.

The definition of a body depends on their overall identity, intersectionality playing a huge role in that. I like to say that religion, culture, and gender are the three biggest components for how an individual may define the term “body”. The definition can also include background, career, and life experiences that pertain to the body.

This topic about the gym has resurfaced my mind a lot more recently. About 2 years ago I was at my all time highest weight and when I saw that, I knew I had to change. So the first thing I did was sign up for a gym membership. However, the creeping thoughts about the gym overcame me and I lost all motivation to go. So, my sister offered to go with me and I felt at ease for a little bit.

Upon entering the gym I noticed the types of people that were working out… skinny. I thought that I didn’t belong there and dreaded going to the gym everyday. However, my sister helped gain some confidence when she told me that “no one is staring at you or anyone else because they are only there for themselves, they only care about their body and that’s it”. This definitely helped me alot and not to worry that someone is watching my every move or my body. 

However, even after having this type of semi confidence of the gym, there is still one thing that I haven’t gone near alone, the smith machine. The smith machine is just wayyy out of my comfort zone and makes me feel vulnerable. One of the main issues with this situation is that the gym I go to only has about 3-4 working smith machines so everyone is usually fighting for them. This also makes me think that they are staring at me to finish up if I was to ever go on it. Even if I do get the confidence to go on the machine alone I don’t know how to use it at all and as someone who is big it seems very intimidating to ask someone. Recently though, my best friend from high school who regularly uses the machine let me try it out without any judgment. I appreciate her a lot as she recognized my concerns and without a second thought took me and taught me how to use it. She also said “no one cares about you, they are only there for themselves”. This once again reassured me but I still have that thought of people judging my body cross my mind all the time. 

In today’s society I believe there is a set standard for how women are supposed to look which is skinny and fit. So when someone who is big tries to engage in any type of physical activity it seems like there is an awkward air around them. This reminds me of Young, “Throwing Like a Girl “ article where it says “ Women often approach a physical engagement with things with timidity, uncertainty, and hesitancy”. I related to this so much because sometimes I think and wonder to myself if my body is actually able to go to the gym. Slowly but surely I believe that I will be able to build the confidence to go to the gym alone and use any machine there without thinking that I am being stared at or if my body is made for the gym. 

Being a woman of color in the financial sector, a traditionally male dominated space, has always intimidated me. Growing up I would picture older, white men when someone would talk about business or finance. I never imagined myself in this space. But perhaps it was my parents’ demand that I pursue something other than the arts or it was my intrinsic desire to prove that I was capable that motivated me to pursue economics. In my economics courses at UMBC, I have noticed that although the classes are diverse, they are still male dominated. I have also noticed this in the previous finance related internships I was in. Being surrounded by those who did not look like me has contributed to my feelings of being ostracized and questioning whether I was competent enough to fulfill the roles I was in.

When I was applying to all of these roles, I doubted my ability to fulfill them, even though I had multiple relevant courses and skills. I had to make sure that I ticked each qualification before applying to each job, which is characteristic of women’s lived experiences all around the world. Women are generally not considered business-minded and instead are expected to pursue less challenging or more domestic roles. On the other hand I have noticed that compared to women, men are more willing to apply to a job even if they are not qualified. They do not harbor doubts about how fit they are for a job but instead apply without a second thought. I feel that my tendency to give myself credit has been improving over time but it definitely hindered me in the past, especially in applying to jobs. As an example, a recruiter recently reached out to me about a position at a company I previously worked for. The position was quantitative and challenging, and I was extremely apprehensive about applying even though I took the required courses and had the fitting skillset. I remember reading the qualifications over and over and asking myself whether I was competent enough to fulfill the role. I realize now that if a man was in that situation, they likely would have agreed to apply instantly without a second thought.

If I had not taken this class, I would not have realized that I experienced and continue to experience inhibited intentionality, as mentioned in Young’s “Throwing Like a Girl.” Even though I have certain intentions or desires, I feel limited by external social norms, which further inhibits my intentionality. This experience is one of many that describes my human experience. In phenomenology, human consciousness and experience are different between individuals. So even though this experience may feel like the norm to me, someone else can have an entirely different experience because they perceive and interpret the world differently from me.

I have spent most of my life as a black woman. I formed relationships as one, built my perspective of life around being a black woman, and dealt with oppression as a black woman. One of the things I have had to deal with is misogynoir and how to navigate the world with these specific intersections. The fear of getting harassed or microaggressions from peers constantly kept me on my toes. However, since transitioning my thoughts have changed in ways I never thought of. I realized that being black and masc comes with its own set of experiences. Thinking about it makes my head clouded because there are so many moving parts; how I see myself, how I saw myself, and how the world sees and treats me. How do I move in the world as a black trans-masc person with the thought process of a black woman? How does the world still seeing and treating me like a black woman affect my own perception as a black trans-masc person? It makes it hard for me to acclimate myself to the new intersections I will have. I will one day be thrusted into a life of being seen as aggressive and a human target. I will be hyper-policed and seen as untrustworthy. I will be able to see myself as the person I was and the person I will be; Breona Taylor and George Floyd, Sandra Bland and Ahmud Arbery. I feel trapped, there is nowhere to be safe, I either live authentically and move forward with my transition or I move slower in attempts to save myself from being mistreated more violently. One brings internal suffer the other external, I cannot save myself as long as I live in body in this society. I am not looking forward to being a black trans-masc in this transphobic, racist society but to free myself internally I have to be trapped externally.

I want to say the phenomenological perspective is something new that I’ve incorporated into my way of thinking but that wouldn’t be true. Analyzing, overanalyzing, and analyzing the results of what I just analyzed is how my brain thinks about people, life, and most consistently myself. whether I want to or not I think about the human experience and how the memories I have affect me on a daily if not hourly level. how did my memories and experiences cause me to turn out this way? that’s the question that I ask myself and as I read more about the first person experience and the importance of it I simultaneously understand it and don’t. my experience in life seems so mundane when I really sit back and think on them but at the same time because if them I feel like I’m am always at my breaking point. yet I look at people in my life who have experienced so much and they have the ability to seem hopeful for the experiences to come. so my question is what’s our breaking point?

our consciousness exists in the domain of experiences, perception, thought, imagination, emotion, etc. Through these experiences, we form our own personalized way of dealing with what we see. The spectrum that our methods of experience fall onto ranges infinitely. though is there a point on the spectrum where some fall short of adopting the necessary skills to deal with the unknown, not for lack of trying just out of chance? Every day I hyperfixate on the minute details of life for me and everyone around me trying to find something to fix how I am that may not even be there to be found. many of us have shared experiences and memories but the interpretation of them varies from person to person. if I were to think of my question mathematically there is a room with 30 people who just witnessed a traumatic event, of those 30 people use what you know about people vs the situation to determine how many people will be driven to the edge and how many will recover.

I really dont even know if phenomenology can answer my question but it’s propobably my best shot .

Will Overman

It is indeed possible to feel secure with your own body and yet
have insecurities appear just as prominent. I feel that I have come to
recognize this sort of experience in the last couple of years.

For the longest time, I was raised under masculine gender norms and yet also fit many
stereotypically feminine traits. For example, for as many times as I am loud,
competitive, and quick to take charge in a situation, there are others where I
am quiet, vulnerable, and defer to others. In this way, I came to experience
and embody this peculiar paradox of social molding as well as the expectations
within my household. This, combined with my recent discoveries regarding my
gender identity, has fastened for me a sort of double life. And yet, I also
recognize that my body, as Foucault would put it, is “docile”. I have
been molded to be secure and fit within the norms that groups such as school
and family would put me in. Continue reading →