I have had my "black" moment. I was pleased to find out that I wasn't the only one of my friends who had the delayed reaction to this election. Today, I went a little deeper. I have several friends that are multi-ethnic, and it was a long time before I was willing to think of myself as what we used to call "mixed".
Once I left New Orleans though, I realized that a lot of the struggle that I had growing up was actually more parallel to that of my bi-racial friends than the experience of my black friends. But, that also depended on what part of the country I found myself in.
I found myself vehemently protesting when I became aware of someone trying to grant me "light-skinned" privelege. The idea made me physically ill. I wanted to deny anything white--or the fact that their was obviously causian blood in my family. I inherited this attitude from my father's side of the family; my sister and I often laugh about it now. The paternal side of our clan has some of the whitest looking black folk you know, and yet DENIES vehemently that there is anything white about us...hmmm.
I would get into deep arguments with people in school about the fact that he was black; he was NOT white, and there was nothing you could say to me to make me think otherwise, no matter what your eyes told you. Go ahead, ask the question as you step into my house and ask me who's that white man holding your baby in that picture? I like to play with people, "what white guy?"
"that one" as they point and look at me like I'm an alien, or have suddenly lost my sight...
"Oh, girl, he aint white, that's my daddy" Then the eyebrows raise and they say, "Ooookay" Then proceed to try to rationalize it for themselves and sort of apologize to me, "well, you know, he doesn't really look white, he looks...Italian or Spanish or something...Dominican maybe." I just chuckle. I don't really care anymore. I've been through my identity crisis and back a few times over and have come to terms with all the things I and my family are--we are the melting pot. Where did these attitudes come from?
My grandparents grew up in homes that were forced to choose--which are you? Black or White? The United States Census does not recognize "creole" as anything--so what are you? Decidedly, they were black.
I have a very vivid flashbulb memory of being bathed by my grandmother in her home in Baton Rouge, La. A mere five years old and asking her, "Momo, are you black or white?"And her response:
"Greogory Allen! This girl asked me, am I WHITE?!" She was incensed; how could I even think that?
That memory also makes me chuckle. It is one of the only times I remember her raising her voice. She is a very quite, unassuming woman--she never needed to raise her voice to make herself heard. Hers is a different kind of power.
I remember Dad very simply saying, "Nina, Momo is black, just like you and me." And I said,
"Okay, I was just asking." Probably in the same tone my daughter now uses when I seem mildly shocked at a question she has, and I have to remind myself, hey, she didn't make all of this crap up! It was put into place long before either of us got here.
I think that one of the most important things about Barack Obama's win is the fact that this conversation will be had--people can no longer escape it. There have been whole sections of society who have not had to think about the experiences of people of color until they had their first black, asian, or latin friend and said something that offended them and they just, "didn't think it was a big deal."
Because this man is taking the oval office, and it is causing the entire WORLD to react to the US in a different way, people will have to have the conversation. Race is a factor in this country, because it is. Wishing it wasn't won't make it not exist as a factor. Talking about the challenges will help us at least take some steps on that bridge. My family is the rainbow coalition; I have several relatives--on the maternal and paternal sides--in "interracial" relationships.
But even that term is no longer valid. Aren't all of our relationships "interracial" to an extent? Almost no one in this country can claim to "pure" anything. My family is my family and I love them.
When I was 18, I was interviewed for a series the Times Picayune was running in New Orleans called "Black and White" and I said, "people ask you what you are so they can figure out how to deal with you. If you're white, I talk to you like this. If you're black, I talk to you like that. Don't try to put me in a little box and one of your categories. I'm human. Talk to me."
I'm now 31, soon to be a mother of three. As I raise my very prescious children, and I deal with the challenge of explaining the past, my experiences, why things are important, and helping them navigate their own relationships; I am put to the test. How do I help them form their own opinions, give them strong values, and not damage them with mine?
I'm finding that though many years have passed, I have come back to that same place I was in during that interview. I don't assume (anymore) that every white person I meet, is racist if they weren't introduced to me by someone who has cleared them as "cool." I did assume that at one time, I had good reason too, I grew up in the deep, twisted south. But, I have since had the blessing of leaving home, and not only traveling to other states but around the world. If you never have--do it, it will blow your mind. Fortunately, I was able to do alot of that traveling before I was 25, still very green. I plan to do more, and take my kids with me.
I love the challenge we pose for people when they see us--my extended family--together. I love people trying to figure out, who has relaxed or pressed hair and who doesn't. Is that one "white" or "spanish" or something? I love that my comfort food is actually gumbo and crawfish etouffe--and sometimes its greens and mac and cheese, and sometimes its glazed salmon with an endive salad. How do we talk to each other? and all of that foolishness--the same way you do. We open our mouths and say something.
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