Running head: Cultural Autobiography Essay 1

Cultural Autobiography Essay

Cecil Pickett

Ottawa University

ADC 40012

24 February 2021
Cultural Autobiography Essay 2

Cultural Autobiography Essay

Hey, Brownie. These were the first words I heard when I got off the school bus in

Earlville, New York, my new hometown; I was six years old. Of course, I played it six years old

cool, but in hindsight, I can easily admit that those words hurt, and I was never going to be equal

to the White boy who immediately taunted me upon my arrival at his school. But even before our

family moved from New York City to Earlville, New York, the signs were there. Black is less

than. Additionally, I was born into poverty. And being one of eight children in a poor Black

family, surviving on the outskirts of the one stop-light, predominantly White town kind of

sucked. The signs were there. Poverty is less than. So, I ignored being made to feel less than

another human being by my alleged peers. How? Assimilation. By making the unconscious

choice to assume the majority group’s values, beliefs, and behaviors, I became White, or as

White as a Black person can be. Back then I did not know any better. Now I do, because

Blackness, poverty, and a lack of education have been forces that have shaped my cultural

identity. This cultural autobiography will discuss my ever-changing cultural values, beliefs, and

behaviors and how they are influenced by spirituality, family, and environment.

Initially, after I assimilated, growing up in rural New York was not that difficult. Like all

my siblings, I was intelligent, athletically gifted, and well mannered. One might even say that I

was a Black, poor, and popular student. Go figure. As children, a good work ethic was instilled,

learned, and expected from my always employed father and my homemaker mother. For

example, weeding the garden came before cartoons on Saturday mornings, and mowing the lawn

afterward. Coming from a strong Southern Baptist upbringing meant that church on Sunday,

including Sunday school, and church choir attendance were mandatory. Additionally, although

living in a drafty, old three-story farmhouse 3 miles outside of a one-stoplight town we were
Cultural Autobiography Essay 3

afforded the options of playing Little League baseball, high school band membership, and, when

the time came, White girlfriends. When the girlfriend phase began, that is when I learned that the

majority group’s values, beliefs, and behaviors did not include Black like me. Black is less than.

For some reason, the fact that we were a poor family was never an issue during the early

years. Sure, there are traumatic memories of asking for a dollar for a school dance and the

answer always seeming to be, from my mother, “Cecil, you know I don’t have any money.” Now

that I think about it, I began stealing at an early age. Candy bars from Marrano’s market, across

the street from the first Baptist Church, on Sunday mornings. As I got older, candy bars and

other miscellaneous goodies from Tefft’s Variety store, the other small, family-owned business

located in Earlville, New York. Rationalized by a poor Black child’s need to fit within the

majority group that he had assimilated into. And then, as I was older, perhaps because of my

addiction to drugs and alcohol, stealing became normal behavior with no need to rationalize it

anymore. For example, regarding becoming a petty thief because of one’s crack cocaine and

alcohol addictions, I remember saying to myself, “I guess this is what I was supposed to be”.

What a sad, sad statement. Would I have stolen candy bars as a child if I were not poor? Would I

have become a crackhead if I were wealthy? Poor is less than.

When I began attending Rio Salado College, in Phoenix, Arizona, I had just finished an

11-month in-house rehab at the Salvation Army Rehabilitation Center for Men. It was during a

moment of clarity/drug-free thinking that I realized my potential and desire to help others.

Shamefully, as a ninth grade, high school dropout, I had only earned a couple of GED’s during

my many years in and out of jails, institutions, and near-death experiences. And a GED does not

equal a formal education. Often, especially during my college classes, I rue the day I quit high

school. Thinking back, I was not stupid, but my desire to be included negated all other thinking,
Cultural Autobiography Essay 4

especially that an education could facilitate inclusion. That said, my lacking education has been

like a ball and chain, a stigma to upward social mobility. But fear not, I have a complete street

education, including experience in jails, prisons, halfway houses, and with police, probation, and

parole officers. Learning to think outside of the box has benefited my education, and yet also

held me back because the box I built by my design was so very small. Lacking an education is

less than.

Thankfully, I was brought up believing in spirituality. Spirituality has gotten me through

the good, the bad, and the ugly. Believing in a higher power/God/Jesus Christ/whatever you want

to call it is a strength that cannot be taken away from me. Knowledge of that fact, my faith, is

perhaps my best example of my cultural identity; something that I truly believe in regardless of

other’s values, beliefs, and behaviors. Wow, I am beginning to understand my cultural identity.

Today, my cultural identity is not about the norms of the Black and White races, the gaping

discrepancies related to wealth and privilege and poverty and stigma, nor the unlevel playing

field of a college-educated individual compared to a high school dropout, for example. Although

there are cultural norms related to race, gender, socioeconomic status, etc., and, thankfully, there

are positives to all the alleged norms, I feel blessed that my perhaps cultural spirituality rises to

the top of my cultural identity. Spirituality is more than.

My cultural identity and hence this cultural autobiography has been shaped by my first

experiences with people who were not members of my racial/cultural group. For example, the

“Hey, Brownie” experiences of a six-year-old child growing up in Earlville, New York. And as

such, to be a racial/cultural being is, for me, confusing, to say the least, and is equally a constant

reminder of the cultural differences between myself and the worldviews of others. Overall, I

have learned a great deal from my family about cultural diversity and differences. Mostly,
Cultural Autobiography Essay 5

perhaps because my parents were from Alabama during the ugly years, I learned not to hate

others for the color of their skin, the financial disparity that divides our nation, nor one’s social

status. It has made my life more difficult, to be honest, but I would not change that for anything.

Interestingly, I possess myriad stereotypes and biases about individuals from other groups and

my adopted groups. For example, microaggressions, microassaults, microinsults, and

microivalidations are forms of oppression that I will struggle with while I continue to learn about

myself, diverse populations alike and unlike mine, and how to better appreciate our cultural

differences/likenesses.

In his book, Counseling the Culturally Diverse: Theory and Practice, David Wing Sue

wrote the following:

The new neighborhood, which was primarily White, was not receptive to a family of

color, and we were not only objects of curiosity but of ridicule and scorn as well. As I

reflect upon it now, this was the beginning of my racial/ cultural awakening and my

experience with racial prejudice and discrimination. And, while I did not know it then, it

was the beginning of my journey to understanding the meaning of racism, and the many

social injustices that infect our society. But in those early days, I allowed the reactions of

my classmates to make me feel ashamed of being Chinese. (p.26)

Earlier in the text, Sue stated that “People who have never seriously lacked the necessities of life

will never truly understand the experience of being poor…” (p. 25).

Those and several references in the text cover the multicultural journey to cultural

competence, systemic oppression, and microaggressions, for example, that can benefit those of

us wanting to become more culturally competent; to better understand ourselves and others. This

material speaks volumes to my conscious and unconscious worldviews. It has reminded me of

Cultural Autobiography Essay 6

when I was six years old, being immediately taunted when getting off the school bus on my first

day at a new school. Reminds me of the intense pain that only those that have experienced

poverty will ever feel and continue to feel and live with for the remainder of our lives. My

cultural identity, possibly like that of Derald Wing Sue, is most certainly a direct result of

multiple unforgettable racist experiences from childhood, the never healing scars of poverty, and

my lack of education. Alcohol and crack cocaine addictions have not helped either. Furthermore,

society’s set of judgmental, unyielding rules has further warped my cultural identity. But it is all

good. All I need to do is continue to adjust my thinking and accept that I am a confused

multicultural adult. Right? Perhaps.

Because my cultural identity is the hurt that I continue to feel for being “Hey Brownie.”

The learned and assimilated ethnocentric and racist values, beliefs, and behaviors that this child

from a poor Black family adopted, even though they kind of sucked. The harshness of poverty

and its lingering effects that continue to shape me and as such, how I unconsciously practice

systemic oppression and microaggressions on diversely different and diversely similar

individuals. My cultural identity is all of this, and awareness of my ever-changing cultural

values, beliefs, and behaviors and how they are influenced by spirituality, family, and

environment.
Cultural Autobiography Essay 7

References

Sue, D. W., & Sue, D. (2013). Counseling the culturally diverse: Theory and practice (6th ed.).

John Wiley & Sons.

Cultural Autobiography Essay 8