This marks the return of my series entitled The Jane Doe Project, which I originally began back in 2013. If you have a story to tell, but are too embarrassed, ashamed or afraid to share it-then this project is for you. You can tell your story here & no one will ever know your true identity, because you will be known as Jane Doe. Help yourself, and someone else, by coming clean and sharing that thing that you’ve been holding on to for far too long. Let the healing begin…
Hello, my name is Jane Doe. Prior to meeting my mom in 1990, in an all Black church in the heart of Silicon Valley; my stepfather was a member of the KKK. What? An all White family in an all Black church? Yes, I love all aspects of diversity, breaking barriers and stereotypes. This personal essay is not about my stepdad’s role as a KKK member, but about the affects of his racist mentality on my youth.
If you are not familiar with the KKK (Ku Klux Klan), it was a movement of White supremacy that caused great harm to individuals that were not White. They would dress in a white sheet like a ghost and would beat, and/or kill anyone that was different in color.
My first crush in 7th grade was Eric Jones. Eric was very kind, played sports and ever so dreamy. My stepsister, who was two years younger, and I were always giggling and laughing about something. This time it was boys and who was going with whom. My stepdad was eager to find out why we were making so much noise. Is laughing noise? To some folks it is, but to others a world without laughter is LONELY. He said, “tell me about this boy.” Still laughing and giddy as ever; I described Eric. “Oh he’s tall, kind, talks to me, has black hair and did I mention knows my name and uses it” … SWOON…
Two weeks later; I pointed out this stud at pickup. I didn’t think to tell him Eric was Black. Who cares about the color of his skin, he was a hottie. After arriving home I didn’t have time to put my backpack away. Before I knew it, I heard my stepdad say, “Do you know what happens to people like you?” He pulled out his belt and gave me a few lashings. Shocked, I had no idea what has happening or for what reason. Clueless, I uttered the words every parent hears from their teenager at some point, “What did I do?” A few more lashings followed, because asking that question was sarcasm as far as he was concerned. (NOTE to Parents: sometimes your teenager doesn’t know what they did wrong or why you’re mad at them, and aren’t being sarcastic). I was given a history lesson about the KKK and why Whites were not allowed to swoon over Blacks. The reason explained to me was that if I was to be intimate with a Black man I would end up with a mixed child before the 9th grade and be on welfare. Okay …
The history lesson continued, followed by lashings, until I uttered in a robotic voice: “No, I don’t like so and so anymore.” My heart and spirit were crushed. That was the end of that.
Spring fever came along and I crushed hard on a stoner dude. The boy with the longest blonde hair, flannels, & high tops – he was a real rocker (yes, late 80’s). Giddy, I was laughing again about my crush with my stepsister. This time I felt safe to like him because he was White. Nope. According to the stepdad he just wanted to have sex and I was not to like him. As an 8th grader, I was just excited he knew my name- I wasn’t even thinking about having sex with him or anyone else! Same scenario as last time: Lashings until I gave up the idea that he was cute & cool and stated I didn’t like him anymore.
My spirit was broken. A light went off and I had to be in charge of my own childhood. Attending an all Black church and being exposed to diversity was a blessing. Thoughts were racing in my head, why didn’t my stepdad take the message he heard every week from our Black preacher serious. He acted like he did, but his actions said otherwise.
How many of you had a crush? I bet every one of you loved the feeling of having a crush. I always assumed it was okay to have one. The whole idea about junior high and high school was to be giddy about boys and vice versa … like George Strait’s song, “Check Yes or No” and not have someone rip up the note before you even received it.
High school came and I was so scared of the older kids, hoping I looked good enough to fit in and have some cool friends. Note I wasn’t allowed to wear makeup. One day I came home wearing eyeshadow and mascara, and again the stepdad’s issue was who was I trying to “score” with. Another defeat in my femininity.
As a freshman in high school, the coolest guy in 10th grade sent his buddies over to me. “Hey, Terrance likes you.” At the time I thought the boys were joking. Actually I hoped it was only a rumor or a joke. I WAS SCARED SHITLESS. Yes, Terrence was an African American. He had some cool gold grills on his teeth and the Run DMC look going on. I remember clearly that I thought, please, No, No NO NOT ME! If I recall correctly, I went up to him, chatted and asked him why me? Why do you want to go around with me? I forgot what he said but I pointed him in the direction of another girl that drooled over him.
I was safe and he now had a girlfriend … sort of a win win situation, boy it was a close call.
Really, why would any kid have to feel like that? I was heartbroken. Does your child feel like they need to not like someone because of fear? The only fear they should have (maybe), should be the fear that the crush doesn’t like them back.
In my mind, I figured I would not rock the boat and crush on someone handsome and safe. Everyone has a celebrity crush, my celebrity crush was Elvis. Yes, his birthday just so happens to be in January. Elvis Presley: the King of Rock n Roll. Man he was so hot, good looking and that man could shake, sing and kiss. Well of course, not me, but I always pretended I was his leading lady. I know some of you have that same crush on him too.
What is the moral of my story? Parents let your kids have crushes on real living people. Youth is for crushes & puppy love & “He loves me, He loves me not.” I can’t wait to hear those words from my children, laughing about who they like this week.
So what happened to the former KKK stepdad? Well he was sent to prison and my mom divorced him. Did these lashings scar me to the point of being rascist? No. I’m an advocate for underrepresented demographics and love everyone/embrace everyone.
How was I scarred? Around the age of 20, I started to hang out with all guys. They were easier, in my opinion, to get along with and these good buddies would meet me in the morning to hit the gym or go mountain biking. You know, cool adventure sports. The effects of my youth showed their face. One time a friend and I went to the beach and he thought we were on a date. He tried to grab my hand. WHAT?? I quickly sneezed and grabbed one shoe in each hand. The following week, I said hey you’re pretty cool, let me introduce you to my girlfriend. Wow, that was a close one. One of my dearest guy friends was my swing dance partner. He knew my situation: don’t try to date Jane or else she will run like the wind and throw a blonde at you. Then there was another chap I really liked when I was 22 & he liked me. I would always say something stupid while hanging out with him, like mention a crush I had on another guy. Later, I found out that talk about the other guy killed it for him. I was trying to still save myself by being the funniest girl in the room, the girl you could never catch. If you tried, she would throw a brunette in your path to distract you.
This went on for a few years. I didn’t date at all until I was 25; when I settled down and said: okay, breathe- breathe- breathe. I hated the label “Oh Jane is a late bloomer.” I knew it wasn’t true.
And that’s my story of the KKK, Sex & Elvis.
Will you come back to hear more stories from “Jane Doe”? If YOU have a story to share, please email me at sterlingdreams925@yahoo.com. Your identity will not be revealed. Unload that thing you’ve been carrying in your heart, and free yourself. Thank you to Jane Doe for trusting in me & allowing me to post her story.
