African American

"Is that your real hair?" said with surprise. Or, "Can I touch your hair?"
"You don't look like an African," said with bewilderment. Or, "You're not totally African," you know, because I have to validate my existence.
"Smile, you look much better when you do," to make another feel comfortable when I'm totally at ease or on-task.
"Ooh, I'm as dark as you," irritates me because I know said person will never be, not even almost even after 24 hours of intense sunlight.
"You're so exotic," as if I were a different species.
"You all," and "Not you."
"We're all from Africa, anyway," said with dismissal and deflection.
Here in Southern California, "You're so lucky you don't have to use sunscreen," like I'm immune to the sun.
"I wish I were as strong as you," as if I naturally am and not because of persistent systemic racism.
"Black people have come a long way." No, you've come a long way from where your ancestors started.

And sometimes, I really don't like being known as part of the "backbone of the Democratic Party" when all black women are seriously doing is trying to save our own lives and nobody else's backbone.

The coinage as a left-handed compliment did not appear over 8 years ago. It's been a thing for at least 40 years in my lifetime and I'm sure way beforehand.