Name of cemetery doesn’t change history

Lonna Jo Bowen-AlMoctar Louisville, KY I am from a clan of hillbillies in Eastern Kentucky. My family has a swath of land, called Bowen Farms, near Red River Gorge. As long as I can remember, the old cemetery on my family’s land has been called the “slave cemetery”. My Uncle has always kept up with [...]

Because I married a white man

Patricia Osborn Grand Rapids, MI People are always surprised when they see me. My last name doesn’t. “match” how I look. Although my parents are awesome and didn’t think twice about any of their children’s spouses race , my aunts and uncles made so many comments ranging from me not wanting to be a true [...]

For tradition’s sake, we mock others.

Kyle McDonald NC A couple of weeks ago, a friend and I got in an argument about race and sensitivity that started from watching football, of all things. I mentioned something about the fact that, if you think about it, the team the Washington Redskins is pretty offensive. His thought was “who cares?”. “People these [...]

Three months more, would they ask?

Nina Martin Phoenix, AZ I am quietly proud of my multiracial background: my mother is Chinese, and my father is half German, half American. I also look absolutely nothing like my mother, save for straight hair and slightly tanner skin. While never a negative issue, this has led to some interesting situations since the time [...]

Adopted. Raised as white. No identity.

Anonymous Kennewick, WA Being Latina, with a white name, but in knowledge of my Latino surname. I try to be supportive of my friends with their biracial and transracial adoptions, but it is so hard. I have suffered and struggled so much with my identity. People have such good intentions, but the children suffer. Then, [...]

Grateful, granny called me black boy

Kevin Browne ‏ Submitted via Twitter: @drbrowne #TheRaceCardProject  “Black Boy” for Michele by:  Kevin A. Browne I was grateful; granny was prophetic, almost making me out of clay, caressing my tar with old love. black before it was a color. we come from an oily family, our skins sticky to the touch. we, who gushed [...]