To be an outsider. To be an observer. To be someone who notices a sense of camaraderie between another group of people, unable to share in that same connection. It is to be pushed away, forced to watch from a distance because of a specific element—a specific flaw, rather—that causes him or her to be frowned upon. Just as I can define being an outsider, I am able to relate, looking back at a time where I was an outsider myself.

Being at Lynbrook High School, I found myself in a community that made me an outsider. The school was located in a majority Caucasian population, making African American students such as myself a rarer case. This created a divide that was more apparent on a subconscious level. Everyday life in a classroom full of students with different hair textures and skin pigments from myself became natural on the outside but rather awkward on an internal level.

For instance, connecting with my classmates became an easy yet rather complicated aspect of school experience. At times, I found myself playing along with jokes from other classmates about my “nappy” hair or my dark skin.

I can remember walking into 11th grade English class with a fresh haircut and sponged hair. It felt rather amusing to see the entire class approach me and stare at me with wonder, amazed by the ability of my hair to twist in ways they had never seen before. The delight of receiving so much attention was soon replaced with a stronger feeling of awkwardness, powered by the surprise of my classmates’ lack of knowledge of my hair texture.

In addition, the greatest feeling of tension came from my experience as a member of the school’s varsity track team. As a part of this group, I wrestled with the benefit of connecting with my teammates and the divide that presented itself on a subconscious level. Despite the fun competing in events like the 200m or 400m dash, I struggled with the reality of being slower than some of my peers. Additionally, the invisible divide between myself as a black student and other white teammates felt more and more tangible each practice.

Ultimately, my desire to be close to my classmates so different from myself caused me to sway between feelings of comfort and awkwardness like waves tossing back and forth across the sea. The color of my skin and the texture of my hair had pushed me towards the outside, keeping me from connecting with others the way they united amongst themselves. To face the distance separating myself and my schoolmates was to face the overwhelming differences between us.