As a young girl growing up on an Air Force base, I was fortunate to be surrounded by diversity 24/7. To add to that, my parents are Jamaicans, and never focused our home conversations around race or being a minority.
Looking at my classmates, you could see a rainbow of races and skin tones. Many of their parents were from all over the world. It was a beautiful thing that we never questioned, rather embraced.
As our community grew, several of us were forced in different directions as new schools were built and redistricting was done. In the process, classes were now filled with students who did not come from military, diverse backgrounds.
I remember being asked by a black classmate why I didn’t act black. I was conflicted and didn’t know how to answer the question. I’d never been faced with my “blackness” before.
I thought I was just being me.
After encountering more experiences like that, I became more aware of race.
As a teenager, I was always excited about makeup samples in the mail. I was always disheartened when the foundation samples only included the two lightest shades. Why not the lightest and the darkest?
I also noticed that many of the drug store eye shadow colors like white on my brown skin. I couldn’t understand why the colors didn’t pop like they did on the white models in magazines and on t.v.
Imagine my sheer joy when I discovered MAC and other cosmetics lines that included diverse shades for minority women.
Even in my 20s when my scalp condition made it wise for me to stop getting relaxers, my first thought was, I don’t want an afro.
Why was the thought of an afro so repulsive to me?
Thanks to actresses like Lupita Nyongo & Taraji P. Henson, wearing your natural hair is embraced–and beautiful.
Seeing representation of myself in print and media gives the word minority a positive connotation.
My parents kept me very involved in church. We were a part of a small baptist denomination. When we went out of town for youth trips, I was often surrounded by a sea of white. Teenage girls are always looking for a love connection, especially when they are surrounded by
Teenage girls are always looking for a love connection, especially when they are surrounded by teenage boys. On one of our annual youth trips, I actually saw another black person. A boy.
As the girls in my group went on and on about all the cute white boys, one of my youth leaders pointed out the black boy to me and asked me about him.
I was instantly offended because he wasn’t cute to me. He was only pointed out because he was black.
Did I have to pick someone just because our he was a minority too???
Attending college felt like I was back on the Air Force Base. I made friends with a variety of people based on our interests, hobbies & common classes. I didn’t feel the pressure to connect with people solely based on race. I’m still connected with many of them today.
I feel like one of the lucky ones. Most of my experiences with race have been positive, so those experiences tend to drown out the negative ones.
As a mom raising biracial kids, my husband and I don’t make it our mission to constantly have family discussions about race. However, we want our children to be aware of what’s going on around them and we will teach them to be proud of who they are.
When my daughters were babies, their complexion was very fair. I got asked a lot if they were mine. I was asked by white and black people alike. Initially I was always offended and everyone in my circle heard about it.
Now that they are older, their complexion is darker in the summer and lighter in the winter. They both have a head full of curls. I don’t get asked as much if they are mine, but people often assume that I am a single mom.
Most of the discrimination I face is more in the form of microaggressions.
Negative stereotypes about black women get smashed when people find out that I am happily married to a white man, both of our families love us and each other, we are raising biracial children with no identity issues AND we live in the south.
Some people don’t understand why minorities talk about race so much. They think that we are hyper sensitive and take everything too personally.
But I guess if you don’t live your life being questioned based solely on race, you wouldn’t understand.
Trust me, I’d rather not talk about race. I’m going to teach my kids that it’s just an adjective–it doesn’t make up who the person is. But unfortunately, the world doesn’t quite see it that way.
And until they do, we’ll keep having conversations.
I can relate to so much! My interracial family began in the late 80s and 90s in South Carolina. So many struggles, so many stereotypes and blatant racism at times. A lot has changed since then, but not enough. For the sake of our children and future grandchildren this is a conversation that must continue. Thank you Deidre for sharing!
Samantha, thank you for sharing your experience! I agree, there is still so much work to be done.
Diedre, I am sorry you have been treated like this. But, I have come to realize that even though it’s 2017 Race Relations have a long way to go on both sides and that’s okay as long as we all have open and honest dialogue. I have lived my entire life in IL and my earliest memories were at a Daycare that was run by Nuns in the 60’s. We had white, black, Biracial, Multiracial kids and parents there. People from every race flow through there and felt at home there. Everyone was accepted, but it was not perfect. But, I still remember it fondly and my best friend add a Black mother and a White father. She was beautiful and smart. I had a playmate who was Black and Chinese and her father had her brother bow to us every morning and I thought it was the coolest thing. My mom was divorced and without parents. Her company was her family and she was the only African-American there. That was my world until 2nd grade. In 3rd grade my put us in public school in Chicago and it was an Black elementary school and the kids was violent and abusive for no reason. It was a huge shock to have kids walk up to me on the first day of school and demand to fight for no reason but for the fact that I’d worn a long dress and had a braid ponytail to my butt. Yes, I was ahead of my time and as a ‘Lover of Hair’ have been attacked and bullied in the Black community for this and not having views that aligned with theirs. Since we had White friends our family would never go along with the belief that ‘White People’ were the root of every problem in the Black community and of course this put a target on our backs. But, we held our grown and fought back. In high school my siblings and I went to an excellent academic centered school and it was a relief to not have to fight for 4 wonder years. I was the only African-American in the Asian club. The sponsor was embarrassed that she put her teacher aides into the group to fake inclusion. She missed an opportunity to invite other interested students to the fun. Those kids were some of my closet friends even after we graduated. Unfortunately my peace did not last long in College. The school I chose had a large inner city population from the Black Community, no worries I’m from inner city Chicago too! Nope, they were not my kind of people and from the moment I landed of the campus I was harassed about my weave that yes, went to my butt ( at I’m consistent) and my embracing of friends from all races and creeds. I was attacked: They tried to break into my dorm room twice, they threaten me, held my head under the water in a pool, I was physically attacked when I was lured to the boys dorm under the pretense that a friend needed to speak with me. I fortunately had been taught to box by my uncles and at lets just say the guy received the worst from the interaction. I kicked his butt! After winning a theatre scholarship ( I told them I was leaving, but the Dept. Head begged me apply for it), the department hounded me to accept it, until one day I arrived for a meeting only to be told it was cancelled, but the secretary also added she had called my dorm and the hall phone was picked up by some Black guys who said “I was in the room getting F—–,” she said it was shocking since they didn’t give her a chance to identify herself. So they could have been talking to my mother, grandmother, aunt, etc… She was horrified. I was horrified because I didn’t have a boyfriend! I could go on and on. My point is Blacks can be just as horrible to their own as any race. Of course I’ve experienced Whites being racist and unwelcoming too. My son is Multiracial and his look has change throughout his lifetime: he looked Caucasian as baby, light brown straight as a toddler, then wispy curls through early grade school. Then tighter curls as a child and obviously Biracial/Multiracial. He’s been called ‘The Token Black Person” to his face, he’s been told he can’t do reenactments on the German side because he’s Black. Not, by the German side but by another viewer of the battle. Crazy talk in the 2000’s in liberal places! Since My son is half German and I believe can be on any side he wishes, isn’t it all role play anyway? My son doesn’t identify as African-American he identify as Multiracial since he’s, African-American, German, Irish, Cherokee, Jamaican, Scottish and French. He braces every part of himself that makes him unique and I’m so glad! Frankly, African-Americans have so many layers to their heritage that I’m glad people are starting to recognize we have genes from many nations and we have many different interests. We don’t fit one type and we should love and honor all race and not try to force people to conform. My job is to raise a well adjusted individual, who impact the world for the better and who loves and accepts himself. Love and Let Love I say!
Absolutely…love and let love! Thank you so much for sharing your experiences. I am a strong believer that our experiences shape who we are, but don’t define who we are. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this post. It sounds like you get it!
Thanks. Its refreshing that you share your insights with us and have open the door to dialogue.
Thank you Alma-Marie! I so appreciate your kind words!