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I’m Italian, West Asian, North African

Leah Granen,
Santa Clarita, CA

I grew up thinking I was second generation 100% Italian/Sicilian. I realized that my grandfather and great uncles had Americanized their names because they wanted to assimilate. As a fair skinned, freckled red head I was considered to be most likely Irish.

I married a second generation Irish/Ukranian. We adopted a son from South Korea who is 1/2 Korean and 1/2 Hispanic. Then to our surprise we had a biological daughter. That’s when I started hearing “why is your son so brown?” and “people love their biological children better than the adopted ones”. How wrong these people are! And how none of their business it was!

Unfortunately I think all of us who are considered “White” these days still have (hopefully just) remnants of conscious and sub-conscious thoughts that are racist and try to deal with them by learning as much as possible about racism. Your book is a wonderful tool.

And I was delightfully surprised when I took the DNA test from 23 and me and realized I am 80% Italian and 20% West Asian and North African! And, as most of us know now, my ancestors deepest roots are from central Africa!

My daughter is married to a man who has Hispanic and Jewish ancestry. I have a wonderful daughter-in-law who is Pakistani and now a 16 month old grandson who is Korean, Hispanic and West Asian.

My family is an amazing mix of cultures and nationalities. I feel that race is a social construct that really makes no sense but deserves the pursuit of our knowledge in order to shine a light on the dangerous impact and effects of what race has meant to the history and progress of this country.

Kofi is a fake white man!

Playboy-Jazz-Festival-2013-1fakeKofi M. G. W. Opantiri,
Los Angeles, CA.

I am the eldest child of two boys and a girl born to an American-African father and a French-Canadian (white) mother. Born in New York City in 1949, the “one-drop” rule informed me early on that I was Negro and colored. Like millions of American-Africans, I became black in the late 1960s as well as Afro-American and African-American later on. Nowadays, I am black, American-African and African.

During a break at work one day, the conversation dwelt briefly on my being an American-African that looked white. At one point, with her infectious laugh, one of the ladies stated, “Awww, Kofi is just a fake white man.” I smile every time I think of that moment.

The photo is of me, my daughter, step-son and daughter-in-law.

I’m a American Indian not a Native American

Damone Wilson,
Milwaukee, WI

As a kid, I remember coming home from school & telling my grandmother about what I learned for black history month. That’s when she told me “boy you are not black you are Cherokee indian & creole”.. so I went to my mom and told her this new found info about us being indians &she told me “BOY U ARE BLACK”. So hearing that from my mom shut down my interest in my history…until I was in my 20s. Fast forward, Moving to Miami showed me that I was cultureless other than forcefed indoctrination on being “black” and descendants of “slaves”. Seeing the many cultures, from Haitian to Cubans, I was exposed to their way of heritage, traditions & culture. Then the words from my granny resurfaced in my brain. This made me start digging for info in the most important place, my families passed down knowledge. To my surprise, my family all knew that we were Cherokee. My great uncle told me how my granny (his mother)was a light brown skinned (full blooded) Cherokee woman with long straight black hair. So I asked my uncle “do we have any african” and he said “NOOO! THEY AFRICANS WERE ALWAYS JEALOUS OF US”…on another note I asked my granddad on my dads side of the family and they showed me pics of our great great grandfather and grandmother, both black foot Indians. When I ask them about this topic it’s almost like they’ve suppressed this knowledge, a instant joy is seen in their face. It’s puzzling to know that they know this but still go by “black” which is nothing but darkness, isn’t backed by a nation, a flag, nothing. Now I realize we are the only unidentified ppl that I can think of😂
And we are constantly reclassified lol it’s like a fairy tale…What’s worse is when I bring this topic up to white ppl they try to redirect you to propagated false info. Makes me wonder if it’s on purpose & if it’s a technic to keep the America landmass for themselves, keep the indigenous down & not fighting or even looking for the truth, which is that America was taken from us. The Indians who they claim were wiped out were really reclassified as black

One Mirror With Many Different Reflections.

Keith R. Barnes,
Colorado Springs, CO.

I hear people talking about being a part of a pure race. Race is a distinction placed upon one’s physical and genetic traits most notably skin color. Race is a social construct created to make one category seemingly superior over another.
Biologists and anthropologists have discovered race mixing throughout the history of humankind. I have both an African and a Native American bloodline or diaspora (and maybe others). Therefore, what am I really – Black or Red? While I choose to identify as Black/African- American, I am really a mirror with many reflections.

I am BLACK & PROUD, always & forever.

Lauryn Fleming,
Richmond, VA

p>I feel as a black community we lack being prideful of who we truly are due to society. The saying “black and proud” simply means to embrace your culture and not feel less than just because you are of a certain race, especially of African decent. There comes times where it can feel hard and overwhelming of who you are as a race, but I must never let that bring me down. I am smart, beautiful, talented… I am enough.

-L.F.; JSRCC

White Baby Boomer Low Wage Slave.

Skyler Crane
Oceanside, CA

There is a small splash of African in my ancestry, never talked about, though obvious in physical traits of many of my relatives, Why I give my Race Card sentence is that born a baby boomer to low, very low, middle class WASP parents, i was not given or alerted to the financial & social aids of other races in America, not wealthy enough to be “in the know” of scholarships, grants, financial aids, I feel i represent a forgotten group of American youth who turned to the “Counter Culture Revolution” BECAUSE we could see no viable future, no clear, deliberate, “helping hand up” for us. I, as many, many, others of my age, ethnic, and financial means, have humbly, steadfastly, honestly, continued to be solid workers in the community, allowing so many to step up and succeed on our backs, and that we do this without regret at the forefront of our minds, our hearts. Regret, albeit kind regret, with respect and humility, comes now in older age when I hear of the strife of others who actually had a Race Card that was NEVER afforded to me. Thanks for the avenue to speak this truth.

Identity isn’t housed in a box

our-generationKaren Than Myaing
Silver Spring, MD

In this photo: what do you get when you mix an Israeli, a Trinidadian, a Jamaican, a Caucasian, a Burmese and an African American? Our beautiful family. We are Jews, Muslim, Christian and Buddhist. We are female. We are male. We are children. We are human. We do not belong in a box for your comfort. Get used it!

Haitian Cuban fusion. Proud legacy continues.

MG_1887Suzette Chaumette,
San Leandro, CA.

We speak of ourselves as a Caribbean family. We teach our girls about the significance of the drum, Haitian Revolution, Toussaint Louverture, Alexandre Petion, Hatuey, Anacaona, Jose Marti, and more. We love celebrating our respective cultures, which are unique, but also our similar backgrounds as Taino, Arawak, African, French and Spanish.

We’ve got a new lawyer now

protest-trailerDavid Rotenstein,
Silver Spring, MD.

Africville was a community of African Canadians on Bedford Bay in Halifax, Nova Scotia. It was settled in the early 1800s by former American slaves who went to Canada as Black Loyalists and as slaves during the American Revolution and War of 1812. After decades of neglect by the city of Halifax, Africville’s homes were razed and its residents displaced into public housing projects elsewhere in Halifax. In the 1990s the former residents and their heirs sued for reparations. After achieving a small settlement – a park was created in the former community, an apology issued, and a museum was built – Africville’s people still wanted to be made whole. My six words, told to me in 2016 by one of the former residents, captures the hope and despair of people in communities throughout the Americas whose lives and livelihoods were destroyed by environmental racism and greed.

Never complete, white skin, African soul

H. Allan White,
Huntersville, NC

My earliest and formative years were spent in an era of segregation and the early trials of desegregation. Despite an upbringing in the U.S. southend, I developed a keen interest in different cultures, different people…anything different. It was that interest that help instill in me wanderlust…a desire to go see what was on the other side of the world and what was just down the road. On a return from a journey to Botswana and Namibia, I read a poem from which my six words were captured.

Acknowledge the human race’s African origin

Ted Fink,
Rhinebeck, NY

As a kid growing up in the 1950’s, my Grandpa wouldn’t let me play with the black kid who lived next door because he was…black. But in school, I was taught to love my neighbors as myself and the lessons helped me to see his command as wrong at a very early age. My travels to six continents and meeting people of every color have only confirmed how wrong he was.

My African Curls, Scottish White Skin

William (Bill) Roderick Wilson,
United Kingdom

Where did I get my curls ?
Growing up in Scotland in the 1950’s I was one of 5 kids in a happy rural home in Perthshire. My father was Dr William Wilson, a hospital Consultant in Perth, my mother a nurse. His father John had been a Minister in the Church of Scotland, a complete shift from what was socially expected as all previous generations had been coal miners. This was only possible because his mother, the formidable Euphemia McCulloch, determined that none of her 7 sons would go down the pits. She put them all through university with her sewing machine. My grandfather said he never went to sleep other than to the sound of his mother’s sewing machine.

We would sometimes speculate where the curls that were scattered through our family might have come from. My father’s curls were even tighter than mine. At school I was called Willy the Wog which embarrassed me as I didn’t know what a Wog was.

I had no interest in my family history, and it was only when my cousin (another John) began researching it that he came up with the fact that one ancestor, James Wilson had emigrated to the US in 1766, fought against the British in the War of Independence and signed the Declaration of Independence, becoming one of the founding fathers of the US.
John’s research also gave him an interesting idea. He was able to trace the mining Wilson’s all the way back to 1489 (several called William) because until 1833 miners in Scotland were the property of the mine owners. That made them valuable serfs or slaves, so good records were kept. If a mine owner did not own enough miners he would sometimes import slaves from Africa – so John asked ‘might this have been where our family curls came from?’

I took a DNA test and was astonished and delighted to find that my ethnicity estimate included 3.4% African (2.4% North Africa and 1.1% Nigerian). Both these are slave areas and this would be consistent with ancestors being brought across in the early 1700s.

Suddenly as a proud Scot I have even more to be proud of and if I am honest I am still trying to get my head around all that it means. However, I am glad to have the chance to give my story to The Race Card Project.
Bill Wilson June 2021
Perth, Scotland

No, I am not a foreigner.

Denise Valstar,
Netherlands

Very often people ask me where I am from. I am born in the Netherlands, my parents are born here. The only reason for my ‘not so white’ skin is my grandmother who originates from Indonesia. I’ve been asked so many times if I speak Arabic or any other African or South American language. When I tell them I am just a Dutch woman, they blink and ask me if I’m sure.

Wel.. yes. I’m pretty sure I know where I come from. Thank you.

A misunderstood southern white jew

Benjamin Beadle,
New Orleans, LA

I was born and raised in Louisiana. I was raised a Christian on my father’s side and Jewish on my mothers side. I was raised by a vocal and intelligent female rabbi and educated sister. My father worked his but of for the Corp of Engineers for 38 years providing for us.

My father’s side has been in Louisiana since 1750. We never owned a plantation or any slaves as the southern white stereotype likes to assume. My Grandfather ran a local clothing shop in Lafayette snd taught his children the values of saving money, being frugal, education, and hard work. My father’s side is 1/2 cajun and 1/2 English Anglican.

My mother’s side is Jewish living in Germany until 1939 when we were forced to escape. My Grandfather went to New York and started a law firm that offers many services to the Jewish community.

My Aunt and Uncle now run this business. My mother moved down to the South because she decided to pursue an education at Tulane University. She winded up meeting my father and having two kids.

I was raised on Jewish and Christian holidays. I went to catholic school most of my life. So I guess you could say I have experienced the full American diverse experience of three different cultures.

Most Judaism was being raised with the awareness of Jewish suffering over the years, Christian compassion, and catholic rules and traditions. My mother raised us to love Jesus and be caring about the lives of other because of the roots of our Jewish past. This had a major impact on me. Compassionate Conservative I guess you could say

My sister has now devoted her life to service to both the Jewish and Christian community and has married a wonderful Rabbi which she now has two children with.

Now about this project. As a Christian and a Jew raised in the south I have seen both sides of the race issue. I have many close dear black friends that have opened my eyes to the disparities between whites and blacks in our country. This has enlightened me on many issues and I can usually empathize with there suffering because my Jewish side suffered a lot as well over the tears. But luckily my family never owned slaves or did sharecropping or was really involved with rise of the klan in the south. What I know of and have been told about my father’s side was we lived in slave and jim crow south but never really practiced the culture which was imposed by government through government force.

The democratic party had monopoly control of our state for some 100 years really until the 1980’s. Luckily my father’s side never participated in the owning of slaves, their trade, and sale or the owning of sharecroppers and thereof. The democratic party had this control because of a literacy and payroll tax which affected poor whites and poor blacks ensuring the democratic party of the south maintain monopoly control and kept voter turnout low. The democrats of the south also restricted republicans at the time to assert this monopoly control. To me this might have been what inspired the democratic party to be so much more open and inclusive now then they used to be. This and the voices of so many black people that were tired of being used and mistreated. The long legacy of democratic parties support of Jim Crow, segregation, voter suppression, and slavery is finally what pushed them to embrace more voices and change and become a better party.

This to me explains how Racism and segregation became so intertwined into Southern Culture. Along with the belief of American and White Supremacy through the ideas of Manifest Destiny and the White Man’s burden to Christianize and colonize the world.

I think most people tend to forget too that slavery was a worldwide institution and still is to this day is practiced in many ways in many countries. This is not to downplay America’s role in slavery but more too zoom out and realize that it is a human issue and thus should be seen as a human issue instead of an exclusively white American issue. In fact Slavic people or the origin of the word Slav actually comes from the fact Slavic white women were traded as slaves for thousands of years. The root of the word slave comes from the selling of white slaves by African and Arabic merchants. This practice was of worldwide institution for some 4,000 years affecting all races and genders.

In fact the Eurasian idea of Enlightenment which led to the ideas of individual rights, rights to life, and rights to personal property, and speech rights is what eventually led to the freeing and liberation from ownership of so many thousands and millions of slaves over the next hundreds of years.

Sorry I am getting off-topic. I just have two degrees in History so I put much focus into studying these issues. But basically the point if my story is I was raised Jewish and Christian so it has made me a very open-minded person so hence how I can relate to both sides of many topics because the Christian and Jewish experiences have been the same and vastly different in many many ways.

Thank You for you time. I graciously hope I am selected for your project. I think being able to speak freely about such issues as this is so vastly important to our culture at this time. I am hopeful that your website can be a tool to open up about even more conversations.

Would All My Ancestors Love Me?

Melissa U.,
Charlotte, NC.

My Taino people would love me, from my plump lips to my curly hair. My African people would love me from the rhythm in my hips to the powerful thoughts in my mind. My Spanish people, they might deny me, but I can’t deny them. They are in my language, they are on my skin. They took over my ancestry, and hijacked my history. They came in as unsolicited “saviours,” and attempted to rob us, but we are resilience. Our roots run strong and deep. I ask myself, “should I identify with you?” And in this manner they attempt to grab hold of me, and control me, but they cannot. I am free. Though I must accept their language as my own, my soul is AFRO LATINA. It runs through my veins and propels me forward through anything that may come my way.

Got an accent. In five languages

Ioana Hojda,
Aberdeen, SD

Immigrant, white wife of an African immigrant and mother to mixed boys. We have moved to the US from Italy, our first country of immigration. When we travel abroad we have three different country passports for 5 people: Romania, Cameroon and the US.

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