Musings on Mixed Race

I have been noticing a movement.  A rumble of indignation in the world.  Many people are demanding to be acknowledged as Mixed Race... not Black and White or Asian and White... or... or...

I guess that is what I am wondering.  Is the desire to be viewed within this specific category universal?  I wonder if people who are half White experience this more than people who are half Black and something other than White.  In my life, there was a momentary lapse of identity, but for the most part I always identified as Black.  My Korean identity was never nurtured or developed.  It was not difficult to avoid an identity struggle when one half of my identity lurked in the shadows.  I really only experienced one really difficult time in my life as a person caught between two worlds - the LA riots.  I had to defend Blacks to Koreans and Koreans to Blacks.  I am thankful that episode was short lived and not very traumatic.  So, based on my experience, I wonder what it is like for others like me - the Black/not-White biracial folks.  Is it easier to identify as Black?  Or are they feeling what (it seems) many Black/White or Asian/White or other White/??? are feeling?  A desire to embrace a Mixed Race identity rather than identifying more with one race or the other or with asserting that one is half of this and half of that.

I'm inclined to think that the experience is different for those of us who are not half White.  I think that there is a lot more baggage for those who are.  Especially if they are Black/White.  For me, there just wasn't a history of one half of my heritage having oppressed the other half of my heritage.  I honestly never really gave it much thought until I started reading more about the assertion of a Mixed Race identity.  Perhaps it really does represent a new way of looking at race.  Perhaps it is a way that we can honor the richness of heritage without focusing on the baggage that comes with it.  In counseling there is the idea of the creation of the New; creating a new story (Ivey, Ivey & Zalaquett, 2010).  In America, in the world, this is the creation of a new story.  It is a new way of looking at race.  Eventually we will be so intertwined within races, ethnicities and cultures that the only practical way to identify will be 'Mixed Race.' 

The truth is that despite the similarities of our many stories, we each experience mixed race identities in different ways.  Everyone has a unique experience.  While I identify as Black, I am very proud to be half Korean.  I am always looking for ways to infuse Korean culture into my life and now into my daughter's life.  I am biracial.  My daughter is multiracial.  We are Mixed Race.  We are part of the Highbred Nation.  And our numbers are growing.  I hope the world is ready to get with the program.

Ivey, A., Ivey, M. & Zalaquett, C.  (2010).  Intentional Interviewing and Counseling (p. 240). Belmont: Brooks/Cole.

Another Perspective on Raising a Biracial Child

I read an article in Harper's Bazaar by Nandini D'Souza, who like me is a mother to a biracial daughter (http://www.harpersbazaar.com/magazine/feature-articles/raising-mixed-race-children-0810).  It is always interesting to be privy to someone else's story - especially one so near and dear to me.  Nandini is Indian American and her husband is Irish/German American.  Their beautiful daughter favored the father more in complexion and the result for Nandini has been interesting.  In her experience, others have brazenly questioned her tie to her child; others have assumed her role as a caregiver; others have ignored her in favor of addressing her husband; others have snapped at her as she parented.  I was dumbfounded reading about this.  She shared that she initially tried to be understanding, but eventually became aggravated and embarrassed any questioners, and then finally seemed to gain a better sense of how to navigate the murky waters of how others viewed her and her relationship with her daughter. 

While I am surprised that I have not had her experience, I am enormously thankful.  I can't say for sure how I would respond if someone were to assume that I were Bella's nanny.  I am not sure how sensitive and understanding I would be to someones lack of ability to be open minded or show care in their inquiries.  Bella is only 20 months, so I still have plenty of time to find out.  It was good for me to read Nandini's article; to know about her experience and how she handled it.  I think it will help me as I navigate the murky waters of how others might view me and my relationship with my daughter.  Perhaps I have already been sized up and questioned, but maybe the inquirer employed tact and discretion so that I remained unaware. 

I guess I get it.  I get that people are curious.  But I also think that we all have a responsibility to be appropriate; to not be offensive.  I need to use my words just as carefully as the next person.  In a world where biracial and multiracial is becoming more and more normal, individuals need to learn to understand and accept that families look different today than from years ago.  Nandini and her family are a part of the Highbred Nation and I like how she described the differences of her own brother's biracial children: "It's the difference between fluffernutter, peanut butter, and Nutella.  All different flavors, but all tasty."  Well said!

Princesses and Baby Dolls

One of the best things about the holiday season involved the thoughtful gifts that my daughter Isabella received from friends and family who love her so much.  I'd like to share two of these very thoughtful gifts that will contribute to her openness and understanding of the highbred nation...

One gift from Isabella's grandmother (affectionately known as 'Mimi') was this darling little doll from Corolle.  Calin Yang is a 12" doll with Asian features.  Isabella has dolls with White or Black or Latina features, but this is her first Asian doll!  I am really excited about the growing diversity of her collection of babies.  Currently, she is equally excited about them all. 

This is the Calin Yang doll from Corolle. Corolle
Target

While Bella looks very different now, she looked a lot like this doll when she was born.

My sweet girl  the day she was born: May 2, 2009.  The best day ever!

Bella's aunt Kim (one of my close friends) gave her a wonderful book called: Do Princesses Have Best Friends Forever?

Amazon

This is a really sweet book about best friends who have a playdate and do all kinds of fun and cool stuff.  It is not super girly, even though they are princesses.  It shows that girls can do whatever - princesses can get muddy and build stuff and have adventures and be good friends.  And I especially love that they just happen to be a little pink girl and a little brown girl - because princesses are diverse too!

I am so glad that we have people in our lives who will nourish Isabella's hybrid world.

Thankful for Diversity

As the year comes to a close, we tend to reflect on where we have been and where we are going.  There is no question that the world is changing.  The 2010 Census demographic results will not  be available until February, but I am sure that they will show a marked increase in individuals claiming two or more races.  This population has remained invisible for much too long.  Many individuals with a mixed race background have not fit neatly into traditionally defined identity boxes and now there is at least a way to honor one's heritage without simply being labeled as 'other'. 

I am thankful to be surrounded by the positive examples of awareness and acceptance of the highbred nation.  Last year my family moved from Brooklyn, NY to Atlanta, GA.  Brooklyn is a city rich with diversity; in many ways it celebrates diversity and multiculturalism.  I had some concerns about what we would find in Georgia.  Thus far I have been inspired and encouraged.  We moved to a wonderfully diverse neighborhood.  Tonight we will be gathering with other neighbors at the home of a couple who have an adopted son who is biracial.  Other guests include a single mother with a beautiful adopted girl from Guatemala and a White couple with a Mexican adopted daughter as well as a biological daughter (the one with brown skin, hair and eyes; the other with fair skin, blond hair and blue eyes).  Our neighbors are White, Black, Asian, Latino and every other hybrid in between with children who are just as diverse in their racial and cultural makeup.  Our neighbors are gay, straight, christian, agnostic, atheist, democrats, republicans, single income, dual income... you get the picture. 

In addition to the move, I was one of 28 fortunate enough to be accepted into a competitive clinical mental health counseling program.  Diversity is so important in this program that it is infused into the curriculum.  We even have a class that is completely devoted to social and cultural issues.  I see a commitment to diversity in my workplace.  There are intentional conversations about ensuring that our community successfully engage in intercultural activities which promote competence in their lives.  I look at my wonderful network of friends and marvel at the range of diversity. 

As 2010 comes to a close, I feel thankful.  And I feel hope.  I feel hope that my sweet highbred daughter will grow up in a world that embraces her and celebrates her and does not try to confine her to a box with a label.  I wish you all many blessings and look forward to sharing with you in the coming year.  Happy New Year and God bless you!

A Christmas Miracle

Several years ago I was driving home for Christmas from grad school.  It was only about a 4.5 hour drive, but there was something terribly wrong with my car.  About and hour and half into the drive smoke was billowing from underneath the hood of my car and I noted, with sickening fear, that the hot/cold dial was in the red on hot.  It was after 7pm in the backwoods of the south and there were no main exits crowded with bustling civilization.  But, I had no choice; I had to stop the car and get help.  I pulled off to an exit with a gas station and hesitantly pulled in.

Why was I hesitant?  Nervous?  Scared, even?  I stuck out like a sore thumb.  I was not in my comfort zone; I was in an environment that has historically been hostile to people who look like me.  I quickly learned that no auto shops were open, no car rental places were available and there were no hotels to put me up for the night.  I was on the verge of crying as I sat in my smoking car on a cold, now rainy, dark evening in the middle of out-of-my-comfort-zone nowhere.  Desperation pulled me out to look under the hood of the car, even though I was fully aware of how useless I would remain, standing there trying to decipher what I could possible do to make my car better again. 

And then I saw him walking towards me.  He was lanky, White and looked like he would probably assault me with the n-word.  I started praying really hard and tried to not look nervous.  I can't remember his name, but what I can remember is how nice he was to me.  Yes, the man I had just colored with assumptions.  He asked me if everything was okay and offered to look under the hood.  It just so happened that his cousin was in the store and was a mechanic and would be happy to take a look as well.  So he went in and came back out with four other guys who all looked just the same.  The fear returned and I started thinking about all the bad things that can happen to a Black girl all by herself in foreign territory on a cold, dark night in the middle of nowhere.  And then I was assaulted. 

I was assaulted with kindness and concern.  One offered to go inside and get me some coffee; another suggested I wait inside the car with the heat on because it was cold outside; the mechanic determined what was wrong and told me to sit tight while he went to the auto parts store to get the right part to fix it; yet another offered to stay with me until the rest came back.  These guys made small talk while they fixed my car and insisted that I not bother with my money because they weren't going to take it; they wished me a Merry Christmas and sent me on my way. 

Every year I remember this moment in my life.  A moment where everything could have gone wrong.  Instead, I saw God's beauty in humanity.  Every day we focus on all that separates us; all that makes us different.  But, there are so many ways that we are all alike; so many things that unite us.  Every year I am reminded that a world generosity and goodness is possible - even more so if we could stop focusing on the things that divide and celebrate the things that unite.  Better yet, if we could celebrate the differences and the similarities that unite.  I see a miracle in that.  I remember it every year.  And I am thankful for those wonderful men who are so different from me.  I wish you all a Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Kwanza and Happy New Year!

What Is You?

So, that is an actual question that someone asked me once.  "A human being," I tartly answered.  But I knew what he meant.  I just didn't feel like dealing with it at that particular moment.  And if you are mixed, like me, then you probably know exactly what I mean.  My mom is Korean and my dad is Black - a good ol military mix.  I managed to get through a good part of my early youth without it being an issue.  It may have been around 4th grade or so before I really recall realizing that I was somehow different.  But not in a negative way - it was just something that I noticed.  The negativity came around 9th grade.  Up until then we had primarily lived overseas on military bases.  Small town Wisconsin gave me a new perspective on race.  It was the first time I recalled hearing the n-word. 

It was also around the same time that I felt confused about marking 'black' when demographic information was requested.  I wasn't just black after all - I was korean too.  My mother saved me from further distress on that one.  She sat me down and affirmed that yes, I was also korean.  But, other people would look at me and see black and that is how I would be treated.  No one would ever look at me and think that I was korean.  Crisis resolved.  Yay mom.  But I was forever changed in how I looked at race, ethnicity, culture and diversity.  It was a good change; it brought a level of awareness of the good, the bad and the ugly.  But, it also brought with it a profound appreciation for our differences and how then can enrich our lives. 

I do identify as a black woman.  I also love and celebrate my korean heritage.  I think that I am lucky, though.  Because I know that so many others who are mixed do not have this solidarity and conviction in their bi/multiracial identity.  There are times that have been interesting for me.  For example, the LA riots.  I had to defend the koreans to the blacks and the blacks to the koreans.  And then there are the times when I have had to deal with 'not being black enough.'  But all in all, I am thankful to say that I am relatively unscathed and embrace my identity.  So, I refer back to my answer to the question: I am human.  I am a human being living and loving a diverse experience and benefiting from all that comes with it.  And work on your grammar, boo.