This is me. I’m half Jamaican, half Welsh. Blonde hair, green eyes. Mixedrace. I won’t have anyone tell me that I’m not just because I don’t fit their stereotypical image of a mixedrace girl. If you have a stereotypical image of what mixedrace people should look like in the first place then you are very fucking narrow minded. There is no set way for a mixed person to look, that’s the beauty of it. My race and heritage is not inconsistent, I know where I’m from, and that won’t change with your opinion.
My mother is a good person. Anyone who has met her will tell
you so. She is kind and will go out of her way to help anyone. We all know
this, so remember when I tell this story that I love her.
I love her but she is still a slightly-middle-age white
woman who struggles with and often denies white privilege. Yes she knows it’s a
thing that exists to some extent but discussing her existence within that
context is like setting off a bomb and it hurts.
Cecil the Lion was killed earlier this week. My heart went
out to him. Like many people I was enraged. I still am and I can’t shake the
feeling that no matter what happens to that dentist, it will never actually feel
like justice has been served. Later I saw some posts related to the murder that
really spoke to me. These posts merely highlighted the fact that more people
care about this one lion’s death than the lives of People of Colour.
I’m going to keep it 100 (and tell you how I feel). If you didn’t
read about Sandra, if you didn’t spread the word, or publicly demand justice
then you just didn’t care enough. Saying you ‘try to avoid negativity in the news’ is no
longer an excuse. People are dying because they look like me and you would call
yourself my friend. There, I said it and not half as eloquently as others).
So, I brought up the lion with my mom.
“I don’t want to talk about it. I can’t” was her response
when I asked if she had heard about him.
Maybe I should have left it at that but I figured since my
intention was to bring up the #SandraBland posts it would be okay to continue.
In fact I needed to talk about it. I didn’t want to just post the same comments
hundreds of others had. I just wanted to express my own pain.
My mom had never even heard of her.
I briefly explained what I knew of Bland and how I had found
out. My mom doesn’t use social media and so I understood why she hadn’t heard
of #WhatHappenedToSandra but the fact that she hadn’t only further proved my
point. We aren’t talking enough about Sandra Bland (and people who don’t
care are already tired of the subject).
“I only know about the lion because it was on the news” she interrupted.
That is part of the
problem. Sandra Bland’s story should be on the news, the radio, and everywhere
else. The lion’s story spread so fast. The shooter is already being held
accountable for his actions (at least by the public). When a Black person dies,
those responsible get a paid vacation while the victims’ names are dragged through the mud.
There was silence for about a minute and then my mother was
“You asked me to
speak about the lion and I sit here and get yelled at”. Her words stung me.
no way had I yelled at her. I was extra careful not to use any tones of
judgment or accusations mostly because of previous conversations we’d had about
race that had gone wrong. I spoke with
passion and I refused to back down from that passion but I made sure I didn’t
refer to her in my avowal.
Sure, I shouldn’t hold back while discussing white privilege.
When I say ‘white people do __blank___ and
that’s racist’, I shouldn’t have to add appeasing comments for the white people
around me. If you are white and you don’t do whatever micro-aggression I’m
complaining about, you shouldn’t need me to clarify that I am not talking about you as an individual. That’s generally how I feel but she is my mother and so I
avoid things that might hurt her feelings as much as possible. That being said,
following her response I lost my temper.
“Oh My God. That’s what you’re taking out of this
conversation? I didn’t yell at you. This isn’t about you.” She tried to interrupt
again with how it’s not her fault she didn’t know anything about it but I wasn’t
looking for blame or guilt, I was only looking to talk.
Like many people do, she got defensive. I was
challenging and therefore threatening the privilege she has been accustom to
living with. It was in no way personal but she cannot separate my comments on
white privilege and her place within it. If she was younger and had twitter she
would have been hashtagging #AllLivesMatter and #NotAllWhitePeople.
I asked her to stop. This is where “I can’t” because
it hurts to talk about it but she didn’t or wouldn’t hear me.
She was still feeling defensive and so she went on. I couldn’t tell you
what she said. I checked out.
“Please” I said, “I really need you to stop”. Tears were
pouring down my face. I was sobbing. “Can we just not talk? Can I have a
moment to myself?” It really hurts. If she can’t hold off on her defensive stance over white guilt long enough to see just how much these events hurt her own
daughter, how would she ever understand where I was coming from?
Again I want to remind you (and it seems silly to have to do
this) that I love my mom but she may never understand how I feel about race.
Despite having raised a black child in this society herself, she’ll probably never fully know what it’s like to have a black kid. Or what I go through
I guess I’m writing this event down because it shows me how
powerful white denial can be.
" I like my coffee, like my men strong and dark" 🙄🙄🙄🙄
I love interracial couples . There’s nothing wrong with truly being committed and in love with a person of a different race. But to the individuals who flaunt their partner around like an accessory or expensive item you are complete culturally insensitive dumbasses . I was sitting at my desk at work and my co worker who happens to be a white young woman telling the whole nursing team how her and her boyfriend gives each other pet names of “ vanilla cream pie, And Midknight Magic ” . She then goes on to tell everyone she was joking with her father in the morning while brewing coffee that she “ likes her coffee like her men dark and strong .” I think it’s these type of attitudes that cause black women to feel a type of way about other races being with black men. Just because you are dating or married to someone who’s outside your race doesn’t mean you should be recognized for it. You are not getting any Noble Peace Prize. This is not a competition or trend. And for all those people willing to try and be with a different race because “mixed kids are the cutest” …. Stop fooling yourself, genetics are by chance. Remember you’re a human being stop trying to breed yourself.