I am exhausted with explaining my race, but I only see things getting worse because of Rachel Dolezal. As a result of her having everyone fooled into believing she was biracial or a black woman, it makes it harder for actual biracial people who don’t look as if they have black in them to justify themselves. And honestly, we shouldn’t even have to.
I am multiracial. I get African-American, German, Dutch, and Native-American genes from my mother’s side and Caucasian (French-Canadian), Spanish-Filipino, and European (Swiss and French) genes from my father’s side. I am many ethnicities that have been passed down to me by many generations of both sides of my family, but I mostly go about my life as being biracial. The Caucasian and African-American parts of my ethnicity are more prominent than other races, but that does not mean I am denying those other parts of myself by calling myself biracial. I believe as a multiracial person, I have the right to choose how I identify myself. Dolezal on the other hand does not have that right to choose to identify as Black because she simply is not.
Most people I meet who do not know either of my parents have a hard time guessing my ethnicity by just looking at me. I have blonde hair, greenish hazel eyes, and fair skin. People sometimes say I look blacker in the summer months because my skin holds such a strong tan when I’m in the sun. Questions I constantly get about my race include but are not limited to: What are you mixed with? What percentage black are you? How is your hair blonde? Does your mom have really light skin then? Which side do you feel more comfortable with? As if I am living in some kind of limbo of the two sides and it’s impossible for me to identify with both, or I’m the spokesperson for biracial kids around the world.
In many circumstances, I’ve had people assume or believe I fit in with white people better because I “look the part.” Or would ask (more like demand) me to say the N-word because I was “allowed to” since I was black on the inside –an opposite oreo I’ve been called before. I believe society has taught those people these stereotypes that are revolved around race, and it’s hard for them to see outside the box. If I look white, I can’t be black because black people look black. But there is no one way to look black, or look white. I talk/look/act/dress black because I am black. I also talk/look/act/dress/ white because I am white too. Society has this idea where there is one simple way to look a certain race and the many people of America that come from more than one race are a prime example of why that’s not true.
The people who ask me these types of things truly believe I’m supposed to choose one side of myself, the black or the white. To me, this thinking is absurd —I enjoy my mother and father’s side of the family just the same regardless of their skin color. I shouldn’t have to make that choice because without either side, there would be no me. I wouldn’t be here today telling my tale if my parents, both of mixed races, didn’t come together and have me twenty-one years ago. How could I act like one side isn’t there because without them coming together, I wouldn’t exist.
I will never know why these questions fall out of people’s mouth so easily when it has nothing to do with them. Some people truly have no filter and do not think their questions are offensive. A question I’ve gotten more than once when someone sees my mother, who has brown skin, is “Are you adopted/Is that your real mom?” What’s absolutely crazy to me is that they first assume I am adopted rather than believing there is a way I could have come from her. How can they not see we have the same nose, or she’s the one I get my face full of freckles from? I didn’t know that the people asking me these questions were some sort of genetic doctor who knows all the possible outcomes of two people having a baby. Why isn’t their assumption that my father just has strong genes?
I get it, Rachel Dolezal looks blacker than I do; but that’s because she tried to look that way. She convinced everyone around her that she was from African descent by darkening her skin, getting her hair done to mock ‘black hairstyles’, and marking the African-American box when filling out forms about her ethnicity. If I would have seen a picture of Dolezal or saw her walking down the street before her secret became public, I most likely would have believed she was a woman of color. She tried to make people believe she was black or biracial, but I refuse to try.
I don’t need to stay out in the sun too long, change my hair from blonde to brown or mark only the African-American box to prove to someone my true ethnicity. I do not need to figure out a percentage for when people become too curious about something that doesn’t regard them. I know my ethnicity, and that’s all that counts. If that’s hard for you to wrap your head around, tough cookies.
Someone I met very recently was very surprised when I told her I was biracial. I had to show her a picture of my parents to prove it —which has happened on more than one occasion, having to bring up a picture of my two parents to show the similarities I have with both. She told me since I have blonde hair, light eyes, and fair skin, I should go about my life passing as white. I was appalled when I heard an educated Black woman tell me this, because this thought has never crossed my mind. It would be disrespectful to the beautiful woman whose womb I came from, who raised me and my siblings with love, care, a good home, and a sense of respect to be who I was. To me, passing as white by lying on forms (as Dolezal passed as black) or saying I was solely white would be denying who I am and who my family is. I’m not at all comfortable with that; I was brought up to love who I was and where I come from, something Dolezal must not have learned.
I can understand Dolezal’s motive, thinking that being a woman of color would help her achieve more as a spokeswoman of the NAACP or as an African Studies professor, but you don’t get to pick and choose whenever it’s beneficial for you. The main problem here is that Dolezal wants to be a Black woman and lied to get there. She reverted back to her actual ethnicity when it was convenient for her back in 2001, by suing Howard University for being discriminated against as a white woman when turned down for a teaching assistant position. People who are biracial do not get that luxury to choose, they are two (or more) races and have to deal with issues on both sides of the fence.
Trying to convince someone that I am biracial might only get harder from here. Dolezal’s actions basically gave people permission to ask me more questions about my racial identity so I can somehow prove I am from African descent since she was unable to. From a young age, my parents taught me to be proud of my mixed ethnicity and no stupid questions is going to change that. My answers will remain the same, usually asking first, “Why do you care?”
Photos courtesy of Gabrielle & Victoria Orbe
