At least a few times a week, someone tries to compliment me about how “white” I speak. Is it meant to be a compliment?

If I clear my throat, pronounce every syllable and enunciate every word, does that mean I am “speaking white?”

How does one speak black, Asian, Hispanic or any other race?

Today, in Whitman, in Bethesda and all over the country, the word “white” is used as a compliment.

“Wow, you think just like a white person,” a friend might exclaim. After receiving compliments similar to this, millions of black girls and boys across America feel pride, relieved to be accepted by their friends and acquaintances.

You’re black on the outside, but don’t worry! That’s just a technicality. You’re white on the inside. Just like an Oreo.

For most of my childhood, I embraced the label Oreo. I thought it meant that I was fitting in, that I was doing things right.

Because I take the same classes as my white classmates, like the same food and shop in the same stores, does that mean that my skin color has changed?

Few people would call themselves racist, but some of my closest friends have complimented me on how white I am, saying things like “Ugh, you got an A on that math test? How white of you.”

According to some of my friends, I “speak so white,” unlike the “average” black person. That means that the average black person must roll their tongue in ways that mine can’t, speak words I wouldn’t dare utter through my lips and wear clothes that are far less “white” than mine.

I know two languages: English and Igbo, which is spoken in Nigeria. I have traditional Nigerian dresses, jewelry and songs on my phone. I live my culture everyday and I embrace it. I should not be apologetic about who I am.

I strive to have as much courage as the young women in Nigeria who fear for their lives after being held hostage. I wish I could have half as much strength as the Nigerian women who sell water on the street trying to make a living for their families.

You say I “speak so white?” Well, I don’t want to.

I am not white—nor are my parents, brothers or grandmothers. We are educated and we speak well, but we are black and we are proud.