Spellcheck and Other Microaggressions

I hate spell check. Truly, I do.

Aside from the fact that it’s making America a country of lazy, shitty spellers, it is constantly reminding me in tiny ways that I’m not a real American.

Tonight it sneaks up on me when I am writing a cover letter for a job I would actually be excited to get up for. I finish, hit spell check, and immediately have to ‘ignore’ my first and middle names.

Hales, the name that the English immigrant who owned my forefather gave him, does not bear the telltale red line that indicates we have erred.

Ajah does. Diangella does. Nichol does. The names my mother gave me are, to Google, an error.

This shouldn’t be a big deal to me. But for some reason on this particular evening, it’s one paper-cut too many, and suddenly, I want to cry.

Nicole is okay. Nichol is an error. Let’s not even get into the fact that the O is supposed to have a ^ over it.

Now, I have come to expect a slight undertone of racism from Microsoft Word (don’t get me started on that paperclip). But this is GOOGLE we’re talking about! The organization the Feds get their scoop from!

Let me give you an example. A little over a year ago I was dating someone pretty seriously. We discussed rings and looked at a few together while I was logged into my Gmail. For months afterwards, I kept getting ads for Brilliant Earth, an ethically sourced diamond supplier.

Google knows where I live, what I eat, what I buy, even which kind of naughties I  like, but it doesn’t know my name.

I’m reminded of one of my sheros, Heben Nigatu of Buzzfeed and Another Round when she talks about her name and how immigration basically robbed her of her essential self.  I feel your pain, Heaven.

So in honor of Heaven, Tracy, and all of us ‘misspelled’ names that are magic for taking and holding space in a world that does not want us every single day, I’m going to do a top ten list of microaggressions white Americans should just not do.

Ten Microaggressions I really wish you wouldn’t...

10. Touch my hair.

9. Call me articulate with a tone of mild surprise.

8. Ask if I was on scholarship.

7. Assume I’m familiar with all black people, everywhere.

6. Call me a racist or accuse me of hating white Americans.

5. Ask me in a social settings if it is okay to use the ‘n’ word. It’s never, ever, okay.

4. Tell me “You're not really black.” Is that supposed to be a compliment?

3. Tell me, within five minutes of meeting me, that you know the perfect guy for me (the only other black person you know).

2. Touch my hair.

and the NUMBER ONE thing I wish you wouldn’t is:

1. Ask me to speak on behalf of all black people, everywhere!