After a long hiatus from blogging, I was finally inspired to pick up my virtual "pen" and write after reading, crying, and being inspired by an article in the May issue of Ebony magazine. Catapulted in part by the remarks by Halle Berry in a past issue of Ebony regarding her view on her daughter's race, this issue is chock-full of articles regarding mixed persons' views of themselves, their families, their mixed-raced children, and what they regard themselves as racially.
The crying ensued as relief-that I am not alone, that others feel as I do, that I can share my feelings without the fear of judgement. That I can be honest about who I see myself as. Because this is about ME, not about others' feelings or perceptions of me. Not about what is "politically correct" regarding my raceor allowing society to push me into a "neat little box" of either Black or White.
As an adoptee, my Black parents always made sure I knew what I was mixed with, but also included a disclaimer: that although I had White blood and Indian blood in me, the most prevalent idea that society would have about me would be that I was Black. They shared the one-drop theory with me (any ounce of Black blood that flows through your stream makes you Black). That "Black blood" dominates all other blood in forming my identity and having to develop survival skills based on this proclamation made a huge impact on my life. Terms such as "acting Black" or "acting White" or "talking too White/Black" were things I feared would be said about me, even shied away from. And yet I encountered these judgements from both racial sides. Knowing I had the "curse" of Blackhood brought upon me and that that was the only thing that mattered to society caused an intense struggle inside of me. What about the Caucasian/Indian sides of me? Should those be pushed by the wayside because my skin color told a different story?
So, America and anyone else who cares to listen to me, this is how I feel about myself:
I feel that I am a unique and special person. I feel that I am beautiful. I feel that I have so much to offer that y'all would be FOOLS to allow something as precarious and ignorant as a racial box to keep me contained in your ideals about what I should be and who I should identify with. I am Black, yes, and 50% so scientifically. But I am ALSO White (by 1/4), and Chippewa American Indian (1/4). And although my skin is caramel or whatever shade you care to identify it with, I am all of these above things. I will not deny them, or only choose one upon which to build my foundation of identity. I feel as if these are blessings to me, not hinderances. What box do I mark when I fill out a form? I will check, "Mixed" or "Black/White/American Indian". If there is only a White, Black, Asian, Hispanic box, I will check Black, because that is the ethnicity I have always associated myself with. This is the upbringing I had, the people who fully accepted me and taught me ways of life that I still value to this day. But I will never stop searching for and learning about the other parts of myself. And above all, I am Monica Brooke, a 24-yr-old female with hazel eyes, brown skin, curly/wavy hair, and a whole lot of say-so about who I am and the roads I have traveled by.
I used to worry about what I would tell my kids about their race. My three-year-old son has blond hair, green eyes, and the fairest skin in the land. When I point to pictures and ask him to identify race, my heart sinks when he says that people who look like me are Black and that his own skin color is White. But that is his honest perception of himself. I will never force him to fit in a box, but will instead tell him, "You are mixed. You have a White father and a Mixed mother, who is part Black. You are beautiful, special, and unique. Always show kindness and love to those you meet. Don't let them make you feel bad about your skin, your speech, or my skin or my speech. Because it doesn't matter. God made us all to be who we are called to be. We are made in his image, each and every one of us. No matter WHAT you decided to identify with racially, know that you are my son and my blood flows through your veins, yes; but you are more than a race and a skin color; you are ROYALTY, an heir to the kingdom of God. And THAT is much more worthwhile pondering about than which box society tries to force you to choose."
In one of the articles of Ebony, it was mentioned that one of the reasons society pushes for a definite association with one race/ethnicity is because it forms bonds with said race. "Oh, they're one of us!" Society says. "Let's embrace them!." OR, "Oh, they think they're (fill-in-the-blank). How silly of them! If only the really knew where they belonged. That race will never truly accept them."
Let me share a few things with you that I felt and thought during my journey of racial identity. In sixth grade, a (White) friend of mine bluntly told me on the bus, "I see you as White. You have White in you, and that's what I see you as." I was stunned, and my Black side vehemently defended itself. The truth is, I felt threatened that someone was so blatantly denying what was obviously displayed by my skin color and my adoptive parents' skin color. But now, I look at it and think: I clearly didn't feel that way about myself, and that's why his comment bothered me. But how I could have handled that was to say, "I agree that that is a part of who I am, but it is only a part. I would like it if you could please acknowledge the rest of who I am as well." Another instance is when I was recently partaking in a family therapy session. The therapist (who I am convinced was also mixed) asked me, "Well, what do you see yourself as? Black or White?" And I truthfully answered, "I see myself as mixed race. I am White and Black and Indian. I feel like most comfortable when I identify with all of myself and not just the part I feel most accepted as." And the therapist (bless his heart) responded: "Well, I think you're black! If that's how you see yourself, that's fine, but as far as I'm concerned, you're black!" While my parents looked on in agreement. I sighed inwardly, feeling again that anxiety I was so used to whenever anyone needed to verify for themselves that I was Black. I also told myself that all that mattered was that I loved and accepted myself the way I had chosen to. I know that's how society has and may always see me, but how I see myself is the only thing that matters. Letting others define you will drive you crazy. You will always either be trying to disprove them or to live up to their labels. Who is is that said: "There is only one race-the human race" ?
Yeah, I'm with that person.
Luv, Monica
The crying ensued as relief-that I am not alone, that others feel as I do, that I can share my feelings without the fear of judgement. That I can be honest about who I see myself as. Because this is about ME, not about others' feelings or perceptions of me. Not about what is "politically correct" regarding my raceor allowing society to push me into a "neat little box" of either Black or White.
As an adoptee, my Black parents always made sure I knew what I was mixed with, but also included a disclaimer: that although I had White blood and Indian blood in me, the most prevalent idea that society would have about me would be that I was Black. They shared the one-drop theory with me (any ounce of Black blood that flows through your stream makes you Black). That "Black blood" dominates all other blood in forming my identity and having to develop survival skills based on this proclamation made a huge impact on my life. Terms such as "acting Black" or "acting White" or "talking too White/Black" were things I feared would be said about me, even shied away from. And yet I encountered these judgements from both racial sides. Knowing I had the "curse" of Blackhood brought upon me and that that was the only thing that mattered to society caused an intense struggle inside of me. What about the Caucasian/Indian sides of me? Should those be pushed by the wayside because my skin color told a different story?
So, America and anyone else who cares to listen to me, this is how I feel about myself:
I feel that I am a unique and special person. I feel that I am beautiful. I feel that I have so much to offer that y'all would be FOOLS to allow something as precarious and ignorant as a racial box to keep me contained in your ideals about what I should be and who I should identify with. I am Black, yes, and 50% so scientifically. But I am ALSO White (by 1/4), and Chippewa American Indian (1/4). And although my skin is caramel or whatever shade you care to identify it with, I am all of these above things. I will not deny them, or only choose one upon which to build my foundation of identity. I feel as if these are blessings to me, not hinderances. What box do I mark when I fill out a form? I will check, "Mixed" or "Black/White/American Indian". If there is only a White, Black, Asian, Hispanic box, I will check Black, because that is the ethnicity I have always associated myself with. This is the upbringing I had, the people who fully accepted me and taught me ways of life that I still value to this day. But I will never stop searching for and learning about the other parts of myself. And above all, I am Monica Brooke, a 24-yr-old female with hazel eyes, brown skin, curly/wavy hair, and a whole lot of say-so about who I am and the roads I have traveled by.
I used to worry about what I would tell my kids about their race. My three-year-old son has blond hair, green eyes, and the fairest skin in the land. When I point to pictures and ask him to identify race, my heart sinks when he says that people who look like me are Black and that his own skin color is White. But that is his honest perception of himself. I will never force him to fit in a box, but will instead tell him, "You are mixed. You have a White father and a Mixed mother, who is part Black. You are beautiful, special, and unique. Always show kindness and love to those you meet. Don't let them make you feel bad about your skin, your speech, or my skin or my speech. Because it doesn't matter. God made us all to be who we are called to be. We are made in his image, each and every one of us. No matter WHAT you decided to identify with racially, know that you are my son and my blood flows through your veins, yes; but you are more than a race and a skin color; you are ROYALTY, an heir to the kingdom of God. And THAT is much more worthwhile pondering about than which box society tries to force you to choose."
In one of the articles of Ebony, it was mentioned that one of the reasons society pushes for a definite association with one race/ethnicity is because it forms bonds with said race. "Oh, they're one of us!" Society says. "Let's embrace them!." OR, "Oh, they think they're (fill-in-the-blank). How silly of them! If only the really knew where they belonged. That race will never truly accept them."
Let me share a few things with you that I felt and thought during my journey of racial identity. In sixth grade, a (White) friend of mine bluntly told me on the bus, "I see you as White. You have White in you, and that's what I see you as." I was stunned, and my Black side vehemently defended itself. The truth is, I felt threatened that someone was so blatantly denying what was obviously displayed by my skin color and my adoptive parents' skin color. But now, I look at it and think: I clearly didn't feel that way about myself, and that's why his comment bothered me. But how I could have handled that was to say, "I agree that that is a part of who I am, but it is only a part. I would like it if you could please acknowledge the rest of who I am as well." Another instance is when I was recently partaking in a family therapy session. The therapist (who I am convinced was also mixed) asked me, "Well, what do you see yourself as? Black or White?" And I truthfully answered, "I see myself as mixed race. I am White and Black and Indian. I feel like most comfortable when I identify with all of myself and not just the part I feel most accepted as." And the therapist (bless his heart) responded: "Well, I think you're black! If that's how you see yourself, that's fine, but as far as I'm concerned, you're black!" While my parents looked on in agreement. I sighed inwardly, feeling again that anxiety I was so used to whenever anyone needed to verify for themselves that I was Black. I also told myself that all that mattered was that I loved and accepted myself the way I had chosen to. I know that's how society has and may always see me, but how I see myself is the only thing that matters. Letting others define you will drive you crazy. You will always either be trying to disprove them or to live up to their labels. Who is is that said: "There is only one race-the human race" ?
Yeah, I'm with that person.
Luv, Monica
loved the article, straight from the heart and very thought provoking.
ReplyDeleteGreat post Monica. Racial identity can be a hard issue to come to terms with for many 'mixed' people. I'm glad you've found a place of peace and acceptance for yourself. <3
ReplyDeleteAWESOME!!!! I love it!!!!!
ReplyDeleteI'm going to mention it in my blog, for folks to read!
fyi, that therapist?
ReplyDeleteShe is a total psycho.
She needs to go back to school for some training in race and ethnic identity development.
Revoke her doggone license that's just some triflin' non-sense right there. ugh.
This is beautiful. Moni - thanks for sharing these wise and vulnerable thoughts. Love this! Dana
ReplyDeleteThanks for the comments, guys! And the therapist was a well-seasoned man. Not important though. I have found that a lot of older psychiatrists (particularly Black ones) have very outdated views on the topics of adoption and race. It is quite frustrating.
ReplyDelete