*In 1967, the year that interracial marriage was legalized everywhere in the United States, 72% of Americans were opposed to it, and 48% felt that it should be prosecuted as a criminal act.
*In 1991, the percentage of people opposed to interracial marriage (finally) became the minority.
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Growing up multiracial in this white part of the world was difficult, to say the least. My parents married only one year after it was legal for them to do so. My dad is white, of German and Swiss descent, and my mom is black, with a heritage that has traced our roots back to Africa, and also includes Native American and white. I was born into an era where the majority of people thought that my parents were wrong. You can only imagine how they treated my sister and me.
We lived in a white neighborhood. We attended a white church. Our grade school had only white children until I was in fifth grade. Except for us, of course! But the truth is, we fit right in. Outside of my naturally curly hair, I have no other features that would make me physically 'look' multiracial. I also had no reason to keep my 'status' a secret. I had no idea the ramifications that my words would bring. I have only a few memories from before I started school, but none of them include racism. That was left to my schoolmates. Before they informed me, I really didn't think that I was different from them. I looked like they did. I acted like they did. I attended the same school and church, lived in the same neighborhood, shopped at the same stores. I had two parents who loved me. But I was different and they reminded me of that daily. The school bus was a trip from hell, twice a day, every day.
Unfortunately, the lesson that I learned from those years was this - keep my mouth shut about my heritage. There was nothing that I could do to change my neighborhood, and the ones in it who gave me a hard time, but as I advanced into different schools, very few people knew the truth. I looked white and I represented myself as just that*. I was not embarrassed of who I was, but the torment was too much to bear. These days, the bullying would not be tolerated, but back then, it was overlooked. And, honestly, it was not just from the white kids. I was not exactly white, and I was not exactly black. I didn't feel like I fit in anywhere. There were terms for me, but not the politically correct ones we have today. There was no "multiracial" box for me to check. I had to choose. (*edit: I understand now just how much I suffered from internalized racism because of this and am working hard to overcome its ramifications.)
Once my eyes had been opened, there was no going back. I saw the world in a new, different light. Now, I noticed how we were looked at, treated, and ostracized. My innocence about society, and how it worked, was stolen and never recovered. I saw the differences for what they were - in black and white. I struggled to discover my identity, who I was, where I belonged. I looked for acceptance wherever I thought it might be lurking. I was desperate to belong somewhere...anywhere. I had a lot of good people in my life, but sometimes I just felt like I was completely alone, adrift in a sea of bigotry, hatred, and separation. I have concentrated on my school years because that was my first introduction to the world of intolerance. I have encountered it everywhere though : my dating years, the workplace, in my circle of friends, the church.
So what did all this mean for me? All of the trials that I went though - and at times, still do - what were they for in my life? I know that there is a purpose for every road that I have traveled to arrive at the place I am now. Should I feel sorry for myself? look back in sorrow? use it as a lousy excuse for mistakes I've made? or for having a bad attitude? Never! I am proud of who I am! I am glad for the bumps along the way that I've endured. It has made me who I am today. I may not have always understood at the time all that I was going through, but now I can look back and say I am grateful. Grateful for my colorful heritage full of a large, loving, accepting family; grateful for obstacles placed in my way that made me stronger; grateful for bad days that make me appreciate the good ones even more; grateful for ignorant, misguided people that teach me to love unconditionally; grateful for all of my experiences which have made me a more accepting, caring person. I am grateful that I have many different aspects, but together they are all ME!
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