Posts filed under 'Race'
Talking About Race
Cross-posted from resources for Talking About Race at MultiracialSky.com.
The key to talking with your child—or anyone—about race is the same key to discussing any complex subject: openness. Start an open dialog with your child about race early in their life. Make it a comfortable subject of conversation—for you, and for your child.
WORDS: Find descriptive words you are comfortable using. Check out the MultiracialSky Glossary for expanded definitions of 60 race-related terms, including 30 heritage-affirming words used today to describe people with a variety of racial and ethnic heritages.
COLORS: Start with words describing color such as brown or tan, or the colors of foods. The Colors of Us [below] has wonderful descriptive color words.
IDENTIFIERS: Teach your children words they can use to identify themselves, and terms people with other heritages use to identify themselves. (Examples: multiracial, Amerasian, Latina.)
RACE AND ETHNICITY: Talk with your child about names for different racial and ethnic heritages. The descriptions and words you use may evolve and change over time, or as the socially predominant terms evolve. (Examples: African American, Black American, Native American, European American, Asian American, Mexican, White, Black, Cuban, Irish)
HUMAN RACE: When talking about race in scientific terms, the fact remains that there is only one human race. This is a fact and statement we should equip our children with. However, especially as parents, we must also recognize that the societal construct of different and distinct races affects everyone.
BOOKS FOR CHILDREN
The Colors of Us
Written and Illustrated by Karen Katz
The perfect book to begin the conversation with your child about skin color. Uses positive language to discuss the limitless variety of tones of the color brown.
Skin Again
Written by bell hooks, Illustrated by Chris Raschka
Poetic words accompanied by beautiful paintings. This book conveys a strong message that you cannot know who someone is simply by looking at them.
All the Colors We Are: The Story of How We Get Our Skin Color
Written by Katie Kissinger, Photographs by Wernher Krutein
Simply explained scientific history of where and how humans get their skin color. In English and Spanish. NOTE: Multiracial families are presented as atypical following these two sentences: “Usually people with light skin have children with light skin. People with dark skin usually have children with dark skin.”
All the Colors of the Earth
Written and Illustrated by Sheila Hamanaka
Flowing text paired with paintings of children of all skin tones. Multiracial children and interracial couples shown.
Shades of Black
Written by Sandra L. Pinkney, Photographs by Myles Pinkney
Photographs and positive language show the variety of skin color, eye color, and hair texture present in children with Black American heritage.
Amazing Grace
Written and Illustrated by Mary Hoffman
Clearly narrated story of an imaginative girl who overcomes classmates’ limitations of her because of her skin color and gender.
BOOK RESOURCES FOR ADULTS–For thinking and talking about race and racism
A People’s History of the United States
By Howard Zinn
The portion of American History missing from traditional textbooks. The U.S. history of women, African Americans, Native Americans, immigrants of all nationalities, the working class and the poor.
Everyday Acts Against Racism
Edited by Maureen Reddy
A collection of essays by parents (mostly mothers) raising children of color. Some of the authors are multiracial.
Some of My Best Friends
Edited by Emily Bernard
Deep, well-crafted essays about interracial friendships by 16 writers.
White Like Me
By Time Wise
White privilege and race in the United States–past and present–artfully explained and deconstructed by a White man from the South. This book is both life-changing and humorous.
Add comment July 24, 2008
20 Questions: The Junior Version
Yesterday I had a first: I listened to my oldest daughter comfortably and clearly explain her families and her heritage, under a barrage of questions that had me uncomfortable. She was across a quiet swimming pool, so I could see (and hear) most of the conversation, but I was not part of it. It began with an acquaintance about her age (6) asking, “So, are you two related or something?” indicating Jaja and Gretel.
“We’re sisters,” Jaja replied. Without even asking Jaja’s name (or Gretel’s), this girl continued. She said that my girls couldn’t be sisters because they aren’t the same color. “We are sisters!” Jaja answered cheerfully. This girl then asked if Jaja was adopted. Jaja said yes, and then I missed a few sentences of their conversation.
The next I heard was Jaja saying proudly, “I’m biracial. One of my birthparents is Black and one is White.”
And then this girl says (more than once, so I know I wasn’t hearing things), “You’re not biracial. If one of your parents is Black, you’re Black.”
“I’m Black and White,” Jaja says, apparently unfazed (at this point, I was getting a little hot under the collar–who does this kid think she is, questioning my daughter like this?)
Then the girl says, “Well, if you’re adopted that means you’re not biracial.” What!?
“Well, I am,” Jaja kept saying, standing her ground without moving an inch. She never said ‘you’re wrong’. Instead, she just kept repeating her own truths. They played together in the pool for a while, and later I heard this girl start up with the color/race/adoption questions again.
At dinner last night, we were talking with all our kids about their favorite parts of the day, and Jaja brought up this girl. “She wanted to talk about skin color a lot,” Jaja said with a sigh.
“Yeah, like brown, tan, mixed,” Gretel chimed in.
“But I liked swimming with her,” Jaja said. She talked a bit more about their initial conversation, and all the questions the girl had asked her.
“You know,” I began, “if someone outside our family asks you a question–about anything–you don’t have to answer it.”
“I know.” Jaja said confidently. “Sometimes it’s good to answer people’s questions, though.”
“Sometimes it is,” I confirmed. “But the questions this girl was asking you were about your personal information. You do not have to share your private information with anyone. You can, if you want to. That is your choice.”
“I know,” Jaja said again.
“If someone asks you a question, you don’t have to tell them the answer–even if you know it. You can say, ‘That’s none of your business’ or ‘I don’t want to talk about that’ or ‘My mom says I don’t have to talk about that if I don’t want to’. If they keep asking you, you can just leave.” I wanted to give her specific things she could say and do.
Jaja nodded. I turned to Rico, “Same goes for you. You don’t have to answer any questions you don’t want to,” I started in.
Rico interrupted me, “I heard everything you said to Jaja. And that’s the same for me, right?”
“It’s the same for you.”
For several hours I was internally focused on my initial shock and annoyance at this child (and her parents). Where did a six year old learn that families/siblings must match? Why is adoption the only connection she can see between brown-skinned Jaja and her tan-skinned sister? And the biggies: Where did this little kid learn that if you have one Black parent and one White parent then you must be Black? And where does she get off telling my child that her racial self-identity is incorrect?
Hours later, after all the kids were in bed, I began to feel really impressed with Jaja. My sometimes shy little girl aswered this litany of invasive questions with confidence and clarity. She knew her facts and did not seem a bit rattled by this other child’s insistence that Jaja was wrong. Jaja knew she was right: she’s biracial; she’s both Black and White; she was adopted, and Gretel is her sister.
My daughter had the facts and the words and the answers at hand when she needed them. And she was so mature in the way she handled the whole situation–she made me proud.
9 comments June 15, 2008
On Privilege and Responsibility
This is a post in response to the Anti-Racist Parent column, Is Privilege Offensive?
Privilege is absolutely not offensive. Scary to talk or think about? Yes, it can be. For many of us who have to talk to our kids about the high level of privilege our family experiences, it involves telling them about people who are just like them/us who do not have some of the basics that our kids often take for granted: food, shelter, parents, clothes, band-aids, heat, diapers, and the more complicated stuff like a fair trial, a fair chance in college admissions, or equal opportunities to create a livable existence for themselves and their families. If some people are underprivileged, that makes the rest of us overprivileged.
We talk about privilege in our family, with our children, all the time, although we don’t always use that exact word. We talk about my and my partner’s beliefs about the equality of all people, and also about the resources, choices, and opportunities our family (and our kids) have that are unfairly available to only a select a group of people. It can be hard to talk with children about the lack of privilege others are experiencing daily, especially when it manifests as extreme poverty, but I believe we as parents must do it anyway.
Imagine this: Three people are in a 100 meter race. The first person is standing relaxed at the starting line, stretching and waiting for the race to begin. One minute before the race begins, the second person arrives (panting) at the starting line. As the starting shot is fired, the third person runs up–and the three racers are off. The first (waiting, relaxed) person wins the 100 meter race–but not by much. Now, does it change anything to know that the second person had to run 100 meters directly before this race, and the third person had to run 400 meters right before the race? Is the first person the fastest runner? Is the first person truly the winner? Is it a ‘fair race’ if we only take into account that final 100 meter distance that all three runners were required to participate in? This story (that I’ve read in different forms many places) illustrates how privilege works. If you imagine the race from each runner’s perspective, this story also shows how difficult it can be to see (and understand) the other runners’ viewpoints.
I do not want my kids to grow up thinking they are simply ‘lucky’ and other kids are ‘unlucky’. It’s definitely not that simple. There are individual and institutional daily choices being made (as they have been for hundreds of years) that consistently privilege certain groups of people above others. People are privileged based on race (both perceived and actual), skin tone, gender, sexuality, religion, income, education, marital status, and physical ability, to name some of the most common factors.
I believe those of us who find ourselves more privileged in this world do owe something to those who are less privileged. I often wonder what would happen if we each did all we could for those who–for whatever reasons–have less privilege today than we do. What does true activism look like? Is it enough to speak out against offensive jokes and comments, to be an anti-racist parent, and to purchase a cartful of groceries for the food-shelf once a month? Can I expect the world to change if I am not working towards that change myself? Can I expect someone else to step up and do something I myself am unwilling to do?
Note on those ‘Got Privilege?’ t-shirts: I first saw one worn by a new friend I met at the Loving Conference last year (and yeah, I still want one). My friend is White. The majority of people I have met who have been to the White Privilege Conference are White. (I originally thought it was a conference for White people.) So my frame of reference for the shirts is a bit different because I initially met and pictured White people wearing them. I think those t-shirts are great, by the way. They are for anyone–of any race–to wear, anyone who is aware of their own privilege(s). I see these shirts as similar in message to the ‘Don’t assume I’m White’ t-shirts, worn by both PoC and White persons alike. The point is not whether the person wearing the shirt is or is not White–the point is to get people thinking about their racial assumptions. And the ‘Got Privilege?’ shirt is to get people thinking about privilege, hopefully about their own.
3 comments June 10, 2008
What Are You?
I have heard this question in my life more times than I care to, and I know that for my children–one in particular–this line of questioning has just begun. I have a pocketful of pre-formed answers, responses designed to catch the questioner off guard, to get them to examine their own assumptions, and to (sometimes) get out of answering the question all together. The problem for me–and for many others, I suspect–is that when an adult singles out one of my children and asks me, “What are they?” I know what the questioner means.
I am better–and more practised–at fielding and deflecting such questions from White parents/adults. When the questioner is an adult of color, I slip a little. When the questioner is another parent of color, I’ve already let my guard down a bit. With a Black parent of color standing alongside their young daughter, I have to admit–I am not expecting this question. I am also not going to call out this person I’ve just met, possibly embarrass them or make them look dumb, in front of their child.
When I was introduced to this particular questioner by a mutual acquaintance (that made all three of us adults of color at this event standing together) I was holding Teri. I was grateful I had brushed out, re-parted, and re-styled her hair that morning. The one thing this person said to me about Teri was that I have to ‘get her used to sitting for long periods of time because of her hair texture’ (don’t I already know it). This was not said in a complimentary way about Teri’s beautiful hair, even though this parent’s child has a similar hair texture. Then Jaja arrived, practically wordless, clinging to my legs (as she always does around strangers). My new acquaintance practically glowed in her presence. Thankfully, Jaja quickly skipped off to play near Dad with Gretel and a friend–and that’s when the questions began.
First, the adoption questions. I offered only, “We have two domestic open adoptions. We know and see our children’s birthparents. We were there on the days they were born.” (Yes, I know, to those of you who know our full stories this is a slight exaggeration–Teri was four days old when we met her–but I was going for the short version at this point. I was beginning to see where these questions were going.)
My answers to the adoption questions (which included some version of the ‘where are they from?’ question) did not give the information that was really being sought. Which brought on, “What is she?” There was no mistaking which ’she’ we were talking about; Teri (still on my hip) hadn’t been offered a second glance. Still, I played a little dumb (I do after all have three daughters). I refocused on my children as a group. “All my kids are multiracial,” I answered. “So am I.” I was just about to start in on the ‘We have Black, White, and Cherokee heritage in our family . . .’ when I was stopped.
“What is she?” the questioner repeated, pointing across the grass at Jaja.
I sighed. I knew what this person was asking. They were not asking if my child is human. They were not asking about her gender. They were not asking about her ‘nationality’ (As usual, that one had been covered with the, “Where is she from?”) I caved. “She’s biracial. She’s Black and White.” I said.
“She doesn’t look it,” this Black parent responded.
Do you know any biracial kids? I wanted to ask, but I kept my mouth closed.
With their daughter standing right next to them, this parent went on. “She [Jaja] is so beautiful. She looks like a little doll.” I had pretty much tuned out at this point. I excused myself (with four young children, there’s always an excuse) and walked away. I was disappointed. I had been excited to meet another parent of color in my community.
There are a couple things I want to point out here: (1) I never would have even let this line of questioning begin had any of my three older kids been within 15 feet, (2) Teri and Jaja have almost the same skin tone, also very similar to the skin tone of the questioner’s daughter, and (3) All four of my kids are physically striking–they get complimented on it all the time–in completely different ways (bragging mom here, sorry).
The questions and comments about Jaja–which, unfortunately are not going to stop any time soon–are because few people can racially place her. (Although in cities with large Black and White populations–Philly, St. Louis, D.C., for example–Black/African American moms seem to know that Jaja is multiracial, that she has Black ancestors. The same thing can’t be said for White moms in the same cities. We got the most inane comment ever from a White mom in Philly, who said Jaja looked ‘island-y’. My husband reported this comment back to me. “I wanted to ask, ‘which island?’” he said to me. Perhaps racial segregation–including isolated parents of color in my current community–is a big piece of the story.)
My oldest daughter has medium brown skin. Her smooth dark brown hair gently curls. Her facial features are a complete blend of her birthparents’ faces; she looks so much like both of them. This racially-defining question, and all its accompanying baggage, is something she will likely have to deal with her entire life. Unlike her three younger siblings, she is not easily racially stereotyped/categorized by a combination of visual factors, primarily skin tone and hair texture. Rico, Gretel, and Teri will have a similar experience to mine (in this one way): they will have the option to ‘out’ themselves as multiracial, when and if they choose to. But they are unlikely to be questioned or challenged about their racial ancestry based on their physical appearances.
The comments that really get me are the ones after people ask an inappropriate question about my own or my child’s racial heritage, surprise or weasel me into answering their question, and then say I’m wrong or lying. I want to be able to answer these questions about my family’s racial heritage without feeling that I am violating some sacred trust, without feeling as though I am talking about my sex life or my spiritual beliefs or my children’s birthmarks–with a virtual stranger. I want to normalize the multiracial experience, for multiracial families and multiracial individuals. I want people–this person–to know that multiracial people come in all colors and shapes and forms. That we don’t all look alike (anymore than two people of similar racial heritage look alike). And that saying “You don’t look like what you are,” is one of the most dismissive, condescending things someone could say to a multiracial person.
12 comments June 5, 2008
Why I Do This
I recieved an email from a college student last week. With the author’s permission, I share most of it here with you all:
Subject: thank you–from a confused adult/child : )
Hello, I just stumbled upon your site from racialicious and I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve written here. I’m coming up on my 21st birthday and all I can really seem to think about is: “Is it okay for me to say I’m multi-racial?” I grew up knowing that I was a Black kid. I also grew up knowing that I was descended from slaves–that I was African, Irish, Native American, and Chinese. None of those things seemed at odds with each other until I came to college. Now I think that I can only say I’m “mixed” if my parents identify as two different races. Now I feel like it’s my duty to denounce the “mixed” multi-racial identity…even if it’s something I experience daily from the stares to the “what are you’s?” to the “how is that your last name?”…blech.
So your post about how you became confident in your self-identification as a Person of Color gives me a lot of hope. It didn’t really answer any questions for me (in fact it gave me more!) But now I feel like I have something to look forward to. That, one day, I’ll be able to choose an identity I feel comfortable with. And that I really feel represents who I am.
So again, thank you. What you do with this blog (and in your life) is truly beautiful.
Add comment June 4, 2008
