Why I Refuse to Be the Black Token.

As a black woman navigating various spaces, from corporate boardrooms to social gatherings, I've often found myself grappling with the pressure to conform to stereotypes and expectations imposed upon me. In a society where diversity is celebrated but often superficially, the temptation to become the "black token" — the sole representative of my race in predominantly white environments — is ever-present. However, I refuse to succumb to this pressure. But by doing so I have realized I did also suppress myself. I did not allow myself to wear big and colorful earrings or have my hair in any "African" styles. I never have braids or cornrows. I either straightened my hair or tied it up in a strict bun. All of this so I won't be put in a box where I did not belong.  I realized because of my skin color it became easier for them to put me in that box so I can conform with their bias and perception of how a black woman is. Their lack of flexibility in understanding that there are as many shades and shapes of being black as there is of being a human being.
Not seeing that perceiving someone as a black token, or a token in general, perpetuates harmful stereotypes and reinforces systemic inequalities. When I'm expected to embody certain caricatures of blackness — whether it's the sassy sidekick, the angry activist, or the entertainment provider — I'm reduced to a one-dimensional stereotype, devoid of individuality and agency. This not only undermines my humanity but also reinforces the notion that black people are monolithic and interchangeable.
Moreover, being the black token often comes with the burden of representing an entire race. I'm expected to speak on behalf of all black people, and to serve as a cultural ambassador. While I'm proud of my heritage and willing to engage in meaningful conversations about race, I refuse to bear the sole responsibility for dismantling systemic racism or educating others about black culture. True ally-ship requires collective action and shared responsibility, not the burdening of individuals with the weight of an entire race's experiences.
Furthermore, being the black token can be isolating and alienating. When I'm the only black person in the room, I'm acutely aware of my difference, constantly scrutinized and judged based on racial stereotypes. This can lead to feelings of imposter syndrome, as I question whether I truly belong in these spaces or if I'm simply there to fulfill a diversity quota. 
In addition, being the black token often comes with the expectation that I should be grateful for the opportunities afforded to me, regardless of whether they come at the expense of my authenticity or dignity. I'm expected to be grateful for the crumbs of representation or inclusion that are thrown my way, even if they're superficial or tokenistic. 
So, what can be done to dismantle the phenomenon of tokenism and foster genuine inclusivity and representation? First and foremost, we must recognize and challenge our own biases and assumptions about race. We must actively seek out diverse perspectives and experiences, both in our personal and professional lives, and create spaces where everyone feels valued and respected for who they are.
Additionally, organizations and institutions must prioritize diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives that go beyond mere tokenism. This means fostering inclusive cultures where everyone feels empowered to bring their authentic selves to the table, regardless of their race or background. It means amplifying the voices of marginalized communities and providing opportunities for leadership and advancement.
In conclusion, I refuse to be the black token because I refuse to compromise my authenticity, dignity, and humanity for the sake of superficial diversity. I refuse to be reduced to a stereotype. Instead, I choose to embrace my complexity, my individuality, and my worth as an individual and a black woman. And I call on others to join me in rejecting tokenism and building a world where diversity is celebrated, and inclusion is non-negotiable.