Over the weekend I had the pleasure of watching Skin starring the wonderful Sophie Okonedo. The mixed race British actress portrays Sandra Laing, a Coloured South African woman born to “white[1]” Afrikaner parents in the late 1950’s. Coloured is a term used in South Africa to describe any person of mixed race. Sandra Laing ‘s father famously and successfully fought the Nationalist (that’s code for racist) government of South Africa to have his daughter classified as white like he and his wife the only problem was Sandra didn’t remotely look white. Her head was covered with tightly coiled kinky hair and her skin was a beautiful café au lait and while the government and her immediate family recognized her as white no one else did. Her parents in an effort “help” her fit in bought skin lighteners and hair straighteners, none of which were effective in the long term. She had few white friends and the white boys her age didn’t want to date her. At 14/15 she ran away with a black South African man, was thrown in jail for 3 months for breaking the country’s strict laws against miscegenation, was released and subsequently had two children by this black man. She was disowned by her family.
Upon watching the film for the first time I felt anger towards Sandra’s parents for ignoring the obvious, Sandra wasn’t white! No amount of fighting, racial classification or skin lightener was going to change that fact. Their blindness and ignorance doomed Sandra to the miserable childhood and adolescence she ultimately led because they refused to be realistic about the appearance of their child.
Then I watched the film again and thought though I hated her parents’ politics, they were staunch members of the Nationalist party who were the authors and enforcers of Apartheid, they ultimately wanted the best life for Sandra. If Sandra were declared Coloured she could be taken from them to be raised by strangers, she would not be able to attend the best schools, vote, live in certain areas, or hold certain jobs. Hell, she wouldn’t even be allowed to sit in public places or drink from public fountains set aside for whites. With that in mind I started thinking, maybe her father was on to something.
It’s Monday night and I am still thinking… how would I feel if a child I’d born looked nothing like me racially? I am chocolate brown, as chocolate as they come, with a head covered with the same tightly coiled kinky hair as Sandra’s. If my child were born with straight blonde hair, light skin and blue eyes I don’t know what I’d do. I know I’d love him or her but I can’t say I wouldn’t slightly resent their appearance. My people fought (and are still fighting) very hard to accept dark skin as beautiful. Hell, I fought very hard to accept my own dark skin as beautiful and now I am downright conceited about it! If my children were “white looking” how alien would that feel to me? Everywhere we’d go there’d be questions, looks and stares. I’d have to impart a sense of pride in African/African American culture and history to children who do not wear their Africanity on the outside as I do. Do I continuously drill into their heads that despite their appearance they are black and would this give them some sort of inferiority complex about their skin color? Would they wish they looked blacker? How would this govern their interactions with other blacks and/or whites?
I know some of you reading this are probably thinking I am over analyzing the issue, and perhaps I am, but if I don’t decide how to deal with this issue society will. I have a multitude of friends of various backgrounds and some of them are in interracial relationships. A friend from college is white and married to an Asian man and their children look Asian. How does she feel about that? What does it say on the kids’ birth certificate? I have African American friends married to white spouses and their children either look mixed race or black. How does that make their white spouses feel? Then I have a friend back home whose two sons from her previous marriage to a white man look… Native American or Latino at best but not mixed race and certainly not black. You should see the stares she gets because these boys look nothing like her. When asked what do the boys say they are? I also have friends who are biracial and multiracial or just look like they’re mixed when they aren’t. People can’t rest until they find out what they are and will go to various lengths to find out.
Call it xenophobia but I want my children’s appearance to reflect my racial background regardless of my spouse’s race. Some of us like to act like that race doesn’t matter, and really it shouldn’t, but it does. It is a political statement as much as it is a statement about one’s ancestry. It helps to shape one’s frame of reference in this world by both positive and negative experiences and it can unite or separate people. Lastly, if you don’t choose someone else will always choose for you… whether it’s right or wrong. So how do we transcend this thing called race and just see people? Is it even possible? Is it wise? Does skin color or ancestry dictate race? How do or did you choose? What say you dear friends of many races in various interracial, multi-ethnic relationships? I am really curious to find out what you think…
[1] Genetic tests were done on Sandra Laing’s parents and both of them were discovered to have African ancestry though neither of them claimed to know of any such ancestors. Interestingly, Sandra’s youngest brother, like her, also looked more Coloured than white.
Upon watching the film for the first time I felt anger towards Sandra’s parents for ignoring the obvious, Sandra wasn’t white! No amount of fighting, racial classification or skin lightener was going to change that fact. Their blindness and ignorance doomed Sandra to the miserable childhood and adolescence she ultimately led because they refused to be realistic about the appearance of their child.
Then I watched the film again and thought though I hated her parents’ politics, they were staunch members of the Nationalist party who were the authors and enforcers of Apartheid, they ultimately wanted the best life for Sandra. If Sandra were declared Coloured she could be taken from them to be raised by strangers, she would not be able to attend the best schools, vote, live in certain areas, or hold certain jobs. Hell, she wouldn’t even be allowed to sit in public places or drink from public fountains set aside for whites. With that in mind I started thinking, maybe her father was on to something.
It’s Monday night and I am still thinking… how would I feel if a child I’d born looked nothing like me racially? I am chocolate brown, as chocolate as they come, with a head covered with the same tightly coiled kinky hair as Sandra’s. If my child were born with straight blonde hair, light skin and blue eyes I don’t know what I’d do. I know I’d love him or her but I can’t say I wouldn’t slightly resent their appearance. My people fought (and are still fighting) very hard to accept dark skin as beautiful. Hell, I fought very hard to accept my own dark skin as beautiful and now I am downright conceited about it! If my children were “white looking” how alien would that feel to me? Everywhere we’d go there’d be questions, looks and stares. I’d have to impart a sense of pride in African/African American culture and history to children who do not wear their Africanity on the outside as I do. Do I continuously drill into their heads that despite their appearance they are black and would this give them some sort of inferiority complex about their skin color? Would they wish they looked blacker? How would this govern their interactions with other blacks and/or whites?
I know some of you reading this are probably thinking I am over analyzing the issue, and perhaps I am, but if I don’t decide how to deal with this issue society will. I have a multitude of friends of various backgrounds and some of them are in interracial relationships. A friend from college is white and married to an Asian man and their children look Asian. How does she feel about that? What does it say on the kids’ birth certificate? I have African American friends married to white spouses and their children either look mixed race or black. How does that make their white spouses feel? Then I have a friend back home whose two sons from her previous marriage to a white man look… Native American or Latino at best but not mixed race and certainly not black. You should see the stares she gets because these boys look nothing like her. When asked what do the boys say they are? I also have friends who are biracial and multiracial or just look like they’re mixed when they aren’t. People can’t rest until they find out what they are and will go to various lengths to find out.
Call it xenophobia but I want my children’s appearance to reflect my racial background regardless of my spouse’s race. Some of us like to act like that race doesn’t matter, and really it shouldn’t, but it does. It is a political statement as much as it is a statement about one’s ancestry. It helps to shape one’s frame of reference in this world by both positive and negative experiences and it can unite or separate people. Lastly, if you don’t choose someone else will always choose for you… whether it’s right or wrong. So how do we transcend this thing called race and just see people? Is it even possible? Is it wise? Does skin color or ancestry dictate race? How do or did you choose? What say you dear friends of many races in various interracial, multi-ethnic relationships? I am really curious to find out what you think…
[1] Genetic tests were done on Sandra Laing’s parents and both of them were discovered to have African ancestry though neither of them claimed to know of any such ancestors. Interestingly, Sandra’s youngest brother, like her, also looked more Coloured than white.
5 comments:
As a white woman married to a Chinese man (possibly the one you reference in your article), I take offense at any attempt of officials to classify my multi-racial children into any confines when it comes to race.
No, I won't "check all that apply." Nor will I check "other" as if my children's heritage is not good enough to deserve a box on the form. You cannot put a person's identity into a small box on a government document.
My children are Sons and Daughters of the Revolution, descendants of poor Slovak coal miners forced to leave their artistic lives in the Old Country in order to feed their children, progeny of the unfortunate third son in an Irish Catholic family, proud grandchildren of naturalized US citizens who risked everything for an education, children of a first-generation American with enough pride in his country to serve in the military and be deployed 3 times during their young lives, children of a mother who was raised to be color blind while still respecting and admiring the cultures of all. How does one put all of that information on a piece of bureaucratic paper? Is our country any better than one that segregates?
Why does race matter so much? Because it does. It matters to me that my children eat corned beef and cabbage on St. Patty's day and say, "Christos Voskrese" on Easter. It matters that my children know what Chinese zodiac sign they were born under, or how to fly a kite for Kite Festival, or to eat moon cake for moon festival, or to light fire crackers on New Years.
Race matters not because of the color of your skin or the tilt of your eyes. Race matters because of your heritage and rich history. As many people have joked, I am "Asian by association." However, what they don't realize is that as a loving and caring mother, part of my job is to insure that I protect my children's racial identity . . . all of it.
Am I offended that my kids don't look at all like me? No. I joke that I am like the UPS guy, I only delivered. I am offended by those people who are too narrow minded to realize that not all children look like their parents. The people who ask me where I adopted those cute kids or the naive child who informed me that I must have taken the wrong baby home from the hospital are only annoying because they are so ignorant. It is only frustrating because no one took the time or effort to teach these people any better.
My job and my husband's job as parents of multi-racial children is to educate those around us and, more importantly, to be the gatekeepers to the vast, rich heritage that our children are blessed to have.
So sad that this is still an issue in our society. We fail to see the beauty in our differences. Not all of us,but the vast majority. The differences keep seperating us instead of bringing us together. People can see the beauty in art when colors are mixed on a canvas, but reject it when it is done with God's most beautiful yet most complex creation of all humans. Many fail to bottom line it to the fact that when a man and woman come together to create a new life. That new life is a human precious in God's sight. I have been blessed to teach some of the most beautiful multiethinic children on this earth. We cannot really say that any of us is "pure" anything anymore. So many of our ancestors for various reasons have created new life with someone of another culture.
So sad that we feel a need to classify as to seperate instead of classify to unite and appreciate. Personally, I believe this racism as a trick of the enemy to keep us divided as God's children. If we let that piece go and embrace one another and come together and love one another as Jesus commands...the devil can be greatly defeated.
I like the response of the previous responder. We need to refocus on the human race and embrace the beauty of our physical and cultural differences.
Over-analyzing? I don't think so. It's important for all people to know who they are and where they come from and everything that goes with that....the good, the bad, and the part that "folks" wish we'd just "get over it...we have a black president...racism is over".
I think that the younger generations will help usher in a time when we don't see race in the same way that our parents do. They have already started to mix & match, so to speak, and I suspect that they see it as normal. I have the impression (from the few young adults that I have the pleasure to be around) that they DO in fact respect the cultural & ethnic differences that are inherent to each person's "box".
And isn't that all we've ever wanted? To be recognized as human FIRST, then to be acknowledged, appreciated and respected for our [fill in color/race/ethnicity here]-ness SECOND.
Good read, as always....
Hmm.I'm truly curious to know whether Americans who are NOT People-Of-Color (and
with no genetic POC association) even invest as much personal energy into these
questions during their lives.They probably touch on these questions by means of
public PC-guilt experiences at best...? I honestly can't speak for them, as I'm
a POC myself.I just find it interesting that the most compelling dialogue is
often between and amongst ourselves as POC dealing with our own individual
issues as POC in the USA. Which, by the way, often takes lifetimes for just one
human being to understand...
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Nice blog...I'm married to a bi-racial "brutha" and two of our children look like me but my baby boy doesn't...He has blonde curly hair and light/bright skin. I used to get really angry when people would say "his Daddy must be White", now I just smile and say "no, but his grandmother is"....In fact, when people used to ask me "if he was my son?" I would respond "no, I'm just the Nanny"...funny but now that your blog has given me reason to pause, I think I had more resentment about people thinking I married a "white man" and sold out the black race, than my child not looking like me...that actually doesn't bother me in the least bit. Since being a parent now for 10 years and I must credit living in California (Bi-racial/Multi-racial capital) I have changed much and have grown in this area tremendously. I've realized that I want my children to be around good people, with good character more than anything (because all cultures have those with bad). Race Matters because Humans come in Races. Culture and Heritage Matters because it defines how we move, what we wear, why we sing, what we sing and how we sing our songs, our poems, our prayers..I LOVE MY Blackness, My Africaness, My what-makes-me-different-from-the-world-uniquesness-specialness...my children, your children won't see the world as I see the world, as you see the world, but what I hope they will see and know is a good person, with a good heart, with good character, their IWA and when they see THAT I know they will think/sing/pray the old Nigeria/Gift to the Liberian Funga Alafia Ase, Ase, Kai Iwo Ile Iwa Ase, Ase because their Mama sung that song to them....
*note: My husband grew up in a time when no matter how light your skin was if you had a drop of Black in you, you were Black, so he and his white mother chose to embrace that
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