Tag: multiethnic

Half

icaruswithwarmwingsLeave a comment

You are incapable of feeling that twang

Of injustice that is not tied to anything but your skin

And I know I don’t take it as seriously as I should

But it fucking cuts you open from skull to the floor of your stomach when you feel it

Especially when you aren’t used to it

Or when it comes from someone you love

When it’s just the thought of what their beloved racist relative might say

And it cuts through all the layers of not worrying about it

All the social justice work they put in, all the donations

“But sweet grandma would be uncomfortable at the dinner table

It’s so you don’t have to deal with her really,

I’m doing it for you.”

What it comes down to is the fact that it is real for me

That I have to call my dad and ask him what to do

Even though I only have one option and that’s to let it roll off like duck feathers

And quite honestly I think you are just invalidating my feelings, or my experience

And that sucks

Because even though you denounce racism, of course, obviously

It’s only when the victim qualifies, meets your standards.

Do I not qualify for injustice?

Because when it comes crashing through my life

It sure feels like I should

from facebook


biracial

underwaterismyflyzoneLeave a comment

Until this past summer, I have always self-identified as fully white. If someone asked me what my ethnicity was, I would automatically say white. Sometimes, when people would try to pry, further questioning my response, I would almost yell,”I’M WHITE. I’M JUST TAN.”

This past summer I have come to terms with myself in a lot of more ways than one. A huge step for me was that, I have begun self-identifying as half-black and half-white.

I think there were two main reasons I did not associate myself with being African-American.

No, it is not because I’m embarrassed or ANYTHING along those lines.

The first being: the classic dead-beat dad story.  Up until very recently, I have given myself the power to not have to identify as the daughter of a black man who does not identify as a father.

The second reason being, well, racism, discrimination, and oppression, are all still alive and well.

On Father’s Day of last year, I posted something similar to this on a small instagram account I have only for close friends. Someone told me that “no one really cares” and “I don’t see why that’s a big deal.”

It’s a huge deal. Once you’re fifteen years into your life and you finally feel comfortable enough to accept and express the half of your identity that’s made you feel empty for years, it’s a huge deal.

Yes, I am half-black; yes, I am identify with the 17.9 other African-Americans in the U.S; yes, my dad is black; yes, that’s my real mom; and, yes, I’m proud.

 

Photo credit: Theodysseyonline.com