“Hallelujah! My soul, praise the Lord. I will praise the Lord all my life; I will sing to the Lord as long as I live. Do not trust in nobles, in man, who cannot save. When his breath leaves him, he returns to the ground; on that day his plans die.” ~Psalm 146.1-4

“I’m not upset that you lied to me; I’m upset that from now on I can’t believe you.” ~Friedrich Nietzsche

I trusted race. I believed in race and I thought that race believed in me.  I thought that race knew what was best for me, that it was wise beyond my years and was only saying things for my own good, that if race had something better to say about me, if I changed and no longer fit its stereotypes and prejudices it would. I believed that I could change race. I suppose this simple desire is proof that I was not satisfied with our relationship, that everything was not well in our racialized world.

Still, race knew better and race knew me better.  My parents approved of race and my extended family was well- acquainted with it.  Race could do no wrong and was always right.  That is, until the day that my life began to make race a liar and not just about one thing but about everything.  Yes, I mean everything.

The realization of one untruth about me unraveled a series of well- strung, tightly knit lies.  Suddenly, the identity that held me together began to fall away and I saw that there was someone else underneath and that she didn’t need to be covered by race. I was upset that race had lied to me, that my family had not questioned race more vigorously, that society supported such arrangements but I was more upset at the loss of a relationship and my dependence upon race for understanding about me. I could never trust race again.  I could never believe in race again. 

Race had told me who I was and would become.  Race had ordered my steps and now I was walking away from race.  And for what? So, it’s a lie.  Everybody lies, right?  But, I don’t want my life to be a lie; I don’t want to become the deception.  I want to live the real me. 

My soul praises the Lord because I know the Truth and I realize that the plans that race had for my life would have died with me. Its prejudices do not extend beyond the grave.  There is no racialized life after death. There is a greater plan for me and for the whole world and I don’t have to trust race in order for it to come to fruition.