On Color
I grew up thinking of myself as white.
I knew I was Arab and Palestinian and Algerian and Muslim and all that but my privilege didn’t let me see it as a nonWhite identity. I confused my social class with my racial identity, and for the most part it was never challenged. My skin was a light color was what I thought being white meant. I mean I had to (and still have to) check the White/Caucasian box on the census and on most applications, so I must be white was about as deep as I thought on the matter.
Kids would make fun of my name at school and I’d get into fights that looking back now were obviously spurred on by racism. As I got older I didn’t even think about this contradiction in my identity, because I was further shielded by my status as an accomplished nerd gamer and vampire goth kid. I know racism exists in those communities now and then, but I ran massive LARPs and was a sought after DM/ST — In short, I had status that eclipsed my race and I never really even thought about it.
So when did I wake up and suddenly think “oh shit. I’m not white?”
Was it when I worked in a prison with a confederate cosplayer who insisted on calling me Cal all day? No. He was actually really charming and kind to me otherwise and even specifically sought me out to protect me during a riot that almost killed another guard.
Was it when I was stopped, frisked, pinned and arrested on my door step in Queens in front of my wife and infant son? No. The charges were thrown out. It was a false arrest. The system worked and my status as an academic and practitioner in the intelligence industry made me beyond reproach.
Was it when I was turned down for a place at the Woodrow Wilson school bc I wrote on Palestine? No. It’s Princeton. They accept so few applicants and I’d gotten into Columbia, an Ivy in nyc.
It was actually after I moved to LA and started LARPing again. I’d joined this very intense and immersive vampire game and after a few months joined the staff running the game. That first year in that game was some of the best roleplaying I’d ever experienced in about 30 years of gaming.
My wake up moment was when players of color started approaching me specifically with their problems. The first time one of them told me they came to me because I was a PoC it was like a splash of cold water. My experiences in the gaming world, as an author and a player, and in my whole life really were suddenly cast in a very different light. These players identified with me and sought me out as a shield with understanding of their circumstances and I at first didn’t feel worthy of the designation. But hearing their stories and reflecting on mine, I realized what I had internalized and how toxic that was for me, my family and even my work. It’s a daunting thing to take responsibility for others, especially if they’re not empowered and are routinely under attack.
Good thing I like to fight.
Art, Games, and representation in them matter.
But power matters too.
Uplifting and supporting people of color into positions of authority changes the whole game. For everyone.
