Growing up biracial, I have experienced life differently than my parents and much of the rest of the world. Most people know exactly who and what they are; Asian, Black, Hispanic, or White. But not me, I’m none of those things. I am mixed, mulatto, a product of miscegenation. Is this how the world sees me, it feels that way. Most people fit perfectly into their ethnic puzzle. I, on the other hand, have always felt like a corner piece being shoved into the middle of a puzzle. Am I black enough to be black, am I too black to be white? This is what I have spent most of my conscious life trying to figure out.
My father grew up as a typical black kid in Ferguson, Missouri. My mother grew up a typical white kid in Granite City, Illinois. They both knew what race they fit into. Growing up mixed is different and hard to understand if you have not lived it. I grew up surrounded by mostly white people outside my home. My dad’s family is spread out across the country. I never really had a large black presence in my life, besides my father. I had plenty of people making me feel like I didn’t fit in. I lived most of my life dividing myself into fractions.
In kindergarten, my teacher used me as an example for a lesson on racism. I was one of only two black kids in my class and my best friend was white. Our teacher explained in front of the class that historically speaking our friendship would not be allowed because of my skin color. At a very young age I was made to feel different. Even within the black community I was made to feel different. Whenever I say certain things at work my black coworkers say, “That was a very white thing to say,” or “Your white side is showing.” I could not just be me, I had to be black or white.
I always wanted to look white as a child. My hair was too curly, my skin was too bronzed. I just wanted to look like my friends. I used to use scarves to make a fake wig so I could have straight hair. I used to ask my mom all the time to straighten my hair. Even my black role models had their hair straight. It was very rare to see a black woman on television with their natural hair out. There was only one Disney princess who was black, but her hair wasn’t even super curly. There were no mixed-race princesses when I was growing up. So, there I was a mixed girl longing to find where I fit in.
It took me a long time to realize that it is okay not to fit in everywhere I go. Being of a mixed race in prominently white surroundings, besides my family, made me stick out like a sore thumb. I didn’t know what to tell people when I was a kid. I didn’t even know what I was. According to co-author Kerry Ann Rockquemore “Identity is understanding who we are in the world,” from the book “Beyond Black: Biracial Identity in America”. I didn’t understand who or what I was as a kid. Instead of knowing my identity, I depended on what everyone else identified me as.
In the early years of high school, I changed the way I did my hair and my outfits. I would even avoid going outside because I didn’t want to look darker. I was so wrapped up in how other people perceived me I didn’t even care what I looked like. As long as I wasn’t dark. People say there’s a choice as a mixed-race persons must make. One race or the other.
There’s no “mixed race” button when putting an application in for a job, so what do I put? I don’t look white so I should put black, right? But I don’t always act “black” so maybe white? But what does either of those things really mean? Aren’t they just perceptions of each other. Though in reality people won’t ever perceive me as white. They will perceive me as black. Some people call this the “racial imposter syndrome.” That feeling you don’t fit in when hanging out with certain people. Sometimes I don’t resonate with other black people. My friends talk about how they went to cookouts at their aunties and uncles’ houses. And I never had any of that growing up. I got picked up for basketball games, before these white girls because I look like a “hooper”. I spend time trying to act black enough for my friends and trying to act white enough
And cultural constructions of identity in a lot of ways too. for my other friends. Sounds tiring, doesn’t it. The identity struggle is real for any multiethnic person. And this leads to bad mental health. People say though if you look white, or black, or Asian or any race than you can claim that race. Comparing yourself constantly brings you to a very poor mental state. This is a real problem not only for multiethnic people but also for a big part of my life. I had to retrain my brain not to think in those ways. Honestly those mental patterns are very toxic.
Every corny joke I might make (which I make a lot) or every little “mistake” people around me will say or “that’s because you mixed” or “your defiantly not name brand”. Blaming it on the fact that I am half of something and not full.
Though I have experienced life in a different lens than the typical white person or black person, I’ve learned I don’t have to fit into other people’s defined identity categories. Our society is fixed on thinking you can only be one thing at a time but that is not the case at all. I am proud to be mixed.
