I'm not gonna get preachy, but there are a few things one should think twice about before saying them to a mixed a person:
"Mixed babies are so cute." We're not pandas and therefore we're not uniformly adorable. I mean, have you seen Malcolm Gladwell's hair?! (Nothing against MG; his brain makes up for the bad 'fro)
"My cousin married a (insert minority here) and their kids are mixed." This is second only to "I love gay people...my best friend is gay" when it comes to statements that don't prove you're open minded.
"Which parent is which?" Why is this interesting? And what will the children of my friends Natalie and Greg say to this question considering both Natalie and Greg are hapa?
"You aren't really (insert minority here)." Really? What am I? I'd love for you to tell me more about myself.
"People don't know you're (insert minority here)." Yes, they do. How do I know they don't think I'm white? Because you JUST asked me, "What are you?"
You get the idea. If you would be surprised if I said it to you, about you, please don't say it to me (even if you mean it in the nicest way.
Mixed in the Movies
The movie "Bridesmaids" was ok but its handling of Maya Rudolph's mixed character was perfect.
In the movie, they show both her parents - one is black and one is white. No one says anything. At no point in the movie does she say to another character, "Both your parents are white, you wouldn't know how it is." Nor does anyone say to her, "We know it was hard for you, growing up biracial." It's simply never mentioned. Just like regular people, whose parents are the same color, her parents racial combo is no biggie.
I'm not saying I don't want the pleasure and pain of being mixed to be ignored - that would make this blog rather hypocritical - I'm just saying it doesn't need to be talked every single time there's an opportunity. True progress is when we can just let it be.
In the movie, they show both her parents - one is black and one is white. No one says anything. At no point in the movie does she say to another character, "Both your parents are white, you wouldn't know how it is." Nor does anyone say to her, "We know it was hard for you, growing up biracial." It's simply never mentioned. Just like regular people, whose parents are the same color, her parents racial combo is no biggie.
I'm not saying I don't want the pleasure and pain of being mixed to be ignored - that would make this blog rather hypocritical - I'm just saying it doesn't need to be talked every single time there's an opportunity. True progress is when we can just let it be.
Being Mixed in California Has Made Me Soft
Since moving to California in the fall, no one has asked me what my background/heritage/ethnicity/parental birthplace is. It's been nice and I didn't miss it. Yesterday, my "It's been 160 days since our last questioning" sign was erased and put back to zero.
I was with my boyfriend, his friend and the friend's fiancee. We were having a great day. All of us are people of color and I wasn't thinking anything about it - it's nice to just be comfortable with the people around you. Out of the blue, the fiancee asks me about my background. It felt like someone slammed on the brakes of my good time. Suddenly, I was aware of the fact that I'm obviously different. I went from assuming I was part of the group to feeling like an outsider. And, because it's been so long since somebody asked or I thought about being mixed, I sort of stumbled over my answer. No snappy "What do you think I am?" Just, "Ah, well, um, huh, yeah, that came out of nowhere, uh, yeah."
It turns out she is mixed also - Asian and White. I assumed she was simply Asian, but maybe she is often asked about her heritage and didn't think I would find it disconcerting when she asked.
The upside is that I knew there wasn't anything malicious behind it and so I recovered pretty well. I still like her as much as I like anyone after one meeting (I'm slow to call someone a friend) and look forward to us reveling in the comfort of being four people of color on the town sometime soon.
I was with my boyfriend, his friend and the friend's fiancee. We were having a great day. All of us are people of color and I wasn't thinking anything about it - it's nice to just be comfortable with the people around you. Out of the blue, the fiancee asks me about my background. It felt like someone slammed on the brakes of my good time. Suddenly, I was aware of the fact that I'm obviously different. I went from assuming I was part of the group to feeling like an outsider. And, because it's been so long since somebody asked or I thought about being mixed, I sort of stumbled over my answer. No snappy "What do you think I am?" Just, "Ah, well, um, huh, yeah, that came out of nowhere, uh, yeah."
It turns out she is mixed also - Asian and White. I assumed she was simply Asian, but maybe she is often asked about her heritage and didn't think I would find it disconcerting when she asked.
The upside is that I knew there wasn't anything malicious behind it and so I recovered pretty well. I still like her as much as I like anyone after one meeting (I'm slow to call someone a friend) and look forward to us reveling in the comfort of being four people of color on the town sometime soon.
Survey Says: Mixed People More Attractive
A recent study in Britain found that people rated the faces of mixed-race people as "more attractive" than those of either Blacks or Whites. (Source: The Week magazine)
This is the first time I've heard of a study on the topic, but I have heard plenty of people coo, "Ohh, mixed babies are sooo cute." In America, I've overheard White teenage girls tell friends who are dating Black guys, "You two will have the prettiest babies." And, I've had conversations with Black men where they assume a friend of mine is good looking because she's mixed.
Seriously, where does fascination this come from? Do White women deliberately pursue Black men because they hope to have cute mixed kids? Will "Mixed people are hot" become a saying, similar to "Blonds have more fun"? I hope not because, honestly, have you seen some of us? Malcolm Gladwell is brilliant and, I'm sure, a lovely person, but he's never going to make People's sexiest people list.
Don't get me wrong. I do think that a little diversity in one's background can be a good thing. To see homogeneity gone wrong, take a look at the British royalty. They have been inbred to the nth degree and now, no matter how cute they are when they're young, they all end up looking a bit horsey (or, in the case of Harry wearing a Nazi uniform, looking like an ass). At the other end of the scale are people from North Africa and the Middle East. Surveys consistently rate this group as one of the best looking on the planet. They are a seamless blend of the best of Black, White and Asian - naturally tan, luscious hair and almond-shaped eyes.
According to the Census, the number of marriages between Blacks and Whites continues to grow. If you buy into the whole 'mixed people are more attractive,' you're in luck. We're just a few decades away from being a nation of hotties!
This is the first time I've heard of a study on the topic, but I have heard plenty of people coo, "Ohh, mixed babies are sooo cute." In America, I've overheard White teenage girls tell friends who are dating Black guys, "You two will have the prettiest babies." And, I've had conversations with Black men where they assume a friend of mine is good looking because she's mixed.
Seriously, where does fascination this come from? Do White women deliberately pursue Black men because they hope to have cute mixed kids? Will "Mixed people are hot" become a saying, similar to "Blonds have more fun"? I hope not because, honestly, have you seen some of us? Malcolm Gladwell is brilliant and, I'm sure, a lovely person, but he's never going to make People's sexiest people list.
Don't get me wrong. I do think that a little diversity in one's background can be a good thing. To see homogeneity gone wrong, take a look at the British royalty. They have been inbred to the nth degree and now, no matter how cute they are when they're young, they all end up looking a bit horsey (or, in the case of Harry wearing a Nazi uniform, looking like an ass). At the other end of the scale are people from North Africa and the Middle East. Surveys consistently rate this group as one of the best looking on the planet. They are a seamless blend of the best of Black, White and Asian - naturally tan, luscious hair and almond-shaped eyes.
According to the Census, the number of marriages between Blacks and Whites continues to grow. If you buy into the whole 'mixed people are more attractive,' you're in luck. We're just a few decades away from being a nation of hotties!
Strong Like Bull
We have a new doorman for my apartment building. He's Russian and seems nice. We've met twice. The second time, after asking my name, he followed up by asking if I'm Indian because he has a friend with my name who is. No, but I heard that a lot when I traveled there.
The next question could be seen coming from a mile off: What's your background?
I had just run a half marathon, so I was in a good mood but a little tired. All I wanted to do was go to my apartment, ice and eat. Still, this is my doorman. I'm going to have to see him everyday for the rest of the time I live here. I decided to start with the less obvious and work up to what he wanted to know...
Me: I'm Irish and English...
Him: Wow, I never would have guessed!
Me: And French Canadian, Native American and African American.
Him: You must be very strong.
What?! Strong? That's a new one. I think I must have given him a blank stare, but that could have been the race-induced glazed look.
Him: All that mixing means you are the best of everything. People who are just one thing, they get, how do you say, thinned down. Not strong. You are probably very healthy.
Well, that explains why, despite being exposed to a sick boyfriend and mom in the last week, I'm still well. Mixed chicks; we're strong like bull!
The next question could be seen coming from a mile off: What's your background?
I had just run a half marathon, so I was in a good mood but a little tired. All I wanted to do was go to my apartment, ice and eat. Still, this is my doorman. I'm going to have to see him everyday for the rest of the time I live here. I decided to start with the less obvious and work up to what he wanted to know...
Me: I'm Irish and English...
Him: Wow, I never would have guessed!
Me: And French Canadian, Native American and African American.
Him: You must be very strong.
What?! Strong? That's a new one. I think I must have given him a blank stare, but that could have been the race-induced glazed look.
Him: All that mixing means you are the best of everything. People who are just one thing, they get, how do you say, thinned down. Not strong. You are probably very healthy.
Well, that explains why, despite being exposed to a sick boyfriend and mom in the last week, I'm still well. Mixed chicks; we're strong like bull!
Native, Slave and...
On average, once a month, someone asks me some version of the question "What Are You?" This past weekend, in Washington, DC, I got it twice, so I'm good until July, I guess. Sometimes, I enjoy making people guess. It usually makes them uncomfortable. Makes them realize they've casually asked the equivalent of how much money do I make or how old am I. Besides, I like puzzles and games. When it comes to my race, every day is a carnival and I always win the prize because no one has EVER guessed correctly.
And yet, I am one of the most common American mixtures, I think. Black, white, Native American. No islands, except England. No Latino, but my mom speaks Spanish. No Middle Eastern, even though a version of my name is common in Lebanon. Just a basic combo of Americans - Native, slave and Son of the American Revolution.
There are times when people ask when I'm in a bad mood or taken by surprise and I don't want to play the guessing game. This weekend someone asked as a way of flirting with me. I was not wooed. A couple months ago some boys sidled up to me in Times Square to say, "What you mixed with?" I wasn't in the mood and didn't think they should continue to live in this world thinking that was a good opening salvo. "Do I know you?!" I snarled, in a rare moment of righteous New York bitchiness.
Humans love to categorize. We do it naturally, even compulsively. I know that my parents did not combine into an easily categorized human being but trust me, if you get to know me, you'll find out soon enough what I am. However, if we're passing on the street, just meeting at a party, standing in line at Walgreens or sitting next to each other in a park, I ask that you resist your biological urge to hunt, gather and categorize me.
P.S. If you can't help yourself, here's a quick guide to terms you could use and might want to avoid:
Mixed, bi-racial, person of color - fine by me
Mulatto - reeks of 1975, like honky or afro american
Mutt, redbone, high yellow gal, mariney - jokey, diminutive, borderline (unless you're mixed, too)
Snowflake, light bright (damn near white), Triple H (half and half ho) - generally insulting, very loaded, what some might call "fightin' words."
Halfrican, Leprecoon, Mixie-can, Something Rican, Real Black Irish - to me are all hilarious, but watch yourself; not all mixed people look alike and we certainly don't all feel the same about how we're discussed!
Halfrican, Leprecoon, Mixie-can, Something Rican, Real Black Irish - to me are all hilarious, but watch yourself; not all mixed people look alike and we certainly don't all feel the same about how we're discussed!
Bad judging
This weekend I met a woman at a party. She is married to a black man. When he introduced me, I had a small moment of judging; a fleeting thought of "Oh, another black guy married to a white woman."
She was cool and so we talked for a while. Some how the fact that I'm in a sorority that is made up predominantly of African American women came up. She asked me which one, I told her (Oo-oop!) and she told me that she is a member of what is sometimes described as a rival sorority.
I was almost stunned. It's good that people can't see what happens inside out heads. It would have looked like a tornado. Even I, a frequently mistaken for "other" mixed girl, hadn't realized this woman was black.
I felt myself completely rearranging the story I had created for her, her husband and what we could talk about -- I felt I could be more open, in some ways.
But it was also a moment of real self awareness. I realized how many boxes I had put her in based on her looks and being married to a black man. They weren't all bad or good, just judgements. And definitely unnecessary. It's easy to wish other people wouldn't make assumptions about me. The reality is, I need to take my own advice!
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