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Mom placed newborn in front row

John Butterworth
Boston, MA

My mother has just graduated from nursing school in Boston and moved to Maryland in the mid ’50’s with my dad, who was in the Army at the time. Mom found a job at a nearby city hospital in the maternity ward. Mom placed a beautiful newborn in the front row of the viewing window. The newborn viewing area was actually designated as whites -only and the baby front and center was an African American among the white newborns. Mom was completely caught off guard and never fully accepted either the reaction or the explanation provided as part of the subsequent request to move the baby, and told us the story more than once as a cautionary life lesson about right, wrong, equality, and the reality of the day. Imagine that this was the way lives began….

Who will love this black girl?

10459109_10101674801950279_3464419202044908446_nGabby Mbeki,
Boston, MA.

In the fall of 1997, I started 6th grade at a day independent school in Connecticut. I grew up in a predominately West Indian neighborhood surrounded by faces like mine, but my father wanted me to have a more rigorous education. I entered the school being one of three students of color in my class and it was a shock for me. It was not as though I never been around white people, but I never been surrounded as much as I had been when I started at this school. I spent seven years at the school. I grew up and became a woman at this school. I also fell in “love” at this school. Because there were no men that looked like me I found love in the white male and since then I have always been attracted to white males. I have been ridiculed for such preference and felt guilt that I am attracted to such and at times feel as though I am offending my black race. However, I also feel as though white men do not take me as seriously either. They date me because they are curious. They want to know if dating a black girl feels different. If making love to her feels the same…and at the end of the day. I always feel prodded and used. I have grown not to trust love and wonder how much of race has to do with it. I sometimes feel trapped and feel as though I will forever to be alone.

“Where are you from?” – “Boston.” -” Liar!”

Lex,
Syracuse, NY.

I’m originated from Shanghai, China, currently doing a PhD at Syracuse University. Unavoidably, I have been welcomed with the question “where are you from” on a daily basis. It seems that not many people actually cares about the real answer: Shanghai — people generally don’t care about that corner of the globe –they only want to confirm their observation that I am a foreign alien. So, sometimes, I’d like to give false answer to see different reactions. At a recent house party, a half-drunk guy approached me and asked me THE question. I said I am from Boston. He then yelled at me and called me a liar.

I’m an Arab named Dave Hall

Arab nameDave Hall,
Brooklyn, NY.

I get my name from my Yankee (English-American) father, whose ancestors arrived in Boston in 1630 but I get my complexion from my Arab-American mother. People do a double take when they first meet me after only hearing my voice on the phone. And new friends quickly learn that I am passionately insistent about discussing Arabs in truth, not in myth and stereotype.

I have broke free from colorblindness

Michael J,
Boston, MA

I used to be colorblind. I was taught all about equality. I wasn’t even allowed to say black or white. Sounds great right? At the same time society was feeding me prejudice, but under the guise as “calling it as one sees it”. It was hearing the “I’m not racist, but…” followed by some sort of racist prejudice or stereotype. It was very confusing but I didn’t know any better. I had no clue about BLM and even did the same knee-jerk All Lives Matter response as other whites. But the more I heard about BLM and the cry for equal justice and treatment in society, the more I felt that my colorblindness was preventing me from seeing something. I decided to figure this whole thing out. I wanted to clearly listen to the black community so I attended a college lecture put on by black scholars and black community leaders about BLM. My mind was blown. I was sitting in a sea of white faces, me included, listening to a side of life I never heard of. Whites just like myself were asking the most innocent and daring questions to figure out BLM and racism, it was all new to me. It changed my life. Since then I have attended more lectures, attended workshops on how to talk about racism, and have read stacks of books on the topic and it’s various aspects. I am now fully aware of the hidden nasty racist things about our nation’s past that are not taught or talked about in school/society; I learned how all these hidden truths of the past have shaped today; I can now see racism still at work in our nation. We traded open racism such as segregation and Jim Crow laws for colorblindness in order to continue racism under another name. I now have had very long conversations with friends, family, coworkers, and strangers about racism. Some of the conversations and dialogue are constructive, some end in an impasse, and other conversations go completely sideways. Being white, I feel the responsibility to teach my fellow whites about racism. To engage in dialogue and educate about racism, I now listen for subtle or not so subtle clues of racism during conversations. Never in a million years would I have known that this white introvert would stand up against racism and engage another person in racial conversation. Sadly, I have learned that white Americans need lots of help and education. Many have colorblindness and don’t know there is an issue and some don’t care to learn. It’s exhausting, and at times frustrating, to tell someone about a problem that they don’t believe exists. …and then there are those who harbor and promote racist thoughts. Sigh.

White-skinned negro: community of one.

602293_646258256191_1620018807_n1Jada Golden Sherman,
Boston, MA.

I’m so frustrated with people’s limited understanding and acceptance of genetics, and upbringing. The labels ‘white’ and ‘black’ are over-generalized. Especially when now that we have dark parents having white-looking babies, and white-looking parents having brown babies. Not all white people are…white, nor “white-minded”.My mother’s family is African-American, and many of them are really really light. As a child, on occasion I was made fun of because I come from a black family – making fun of my hair when it’s not straightened, or my dolls, or my name, or my momma. My mother was incredibly on-point, and progressive in the way she ensured that I view the world aware of who I am, her people’s beauty and also their struggle, and my part in it. I honestly feel like I don’t fit in anywhere.

I’m often exed out of communities that I want to participate in, and am pushed towards white communities because that’s where people think I belong. Now as an adult, I’m made fun of more frequently because I am white. People telling me, “No offense but I’d never hook-up with a white girl. Your lips are too thin.” I’ve been told that my acceptance into a historically black college was to fill their white quota, not because of my brain. As a school teacher in an urban district, I’ve been given grave looks of disappointment when going to interviews because they assumed by my name and résumé that I was not “white”. And yes, its easier for White folk to move along through society, but not when you’re trying to move along in non-white societies. I’m always against the current. The only time that I have felt peace is when I was introduced to the film, “Cracking the Codes”. This is really just a splinter of my experiences, observations, and understandings regarding race. I’m not necessarily complaining but it is exhausting not having any like-minded folks to discuss issues with, because in my experiences people are so divided into black and white groups.

White people don’t understand what I’m saying, and black people don’t think I know what I’m talking about and therefore don’t share knowledge with me. These are over-generalizations, but incidents none the less. I’ve also cut people off from my life after years of knowing them, because they will say the most scary racist mantras about black people. Most of the hateful things that I’ve heard about African-Americans have not come from Caucasians, nor republicans, but many many other ethnicities and Democrats! However, I have used my whiteness for the advantage of studying oppressive behaviors in white communities. There are indeed many different kinds of white communities. Some are just unaware of the real struggles people of color go through, and therefore don’t necessarily know how to change it. Then there are other communities that are disgustingly oppressive. The things I’ve heard!! So I’ve made it a habit of not telling people up front, what my background is because I learn more about them that way, and learn who to trust. Regardless of the limited “reverse-racism” I’ve experienced from African-Americans, it is nothing compared to the oppressive fear and hate I’ve observed other ethnic groups say about, and do, towards African-Americans. That I know to be true. Because of this truth, I want my voice to be heard and given a chance by the African-American communities I try and become a part of, because my insights are valuable. Also, I do not support the color-blind ideology.

Busing: white girl, black schools, lonely

Clara Silverstein,
Boston, MA.

As one of the white children in Richmond, Virginia in the 1970s whose family willingly participated in busing, I had few friends of any race. What we could have used at the time was leadership instead of racist rhetoric, white flight, and school administrators who cancelled all after-school activities. The possibility of an interracial dance horrified them. The longest-lasting lesson: Race is a malignant social construct. Many of us wanted to reach out to each other but generations of misinformation and mistrust stood in the way. I have written about my own experiences and also use my background to help teens of all races express themselves in writing – their struggles to fit in and find a place for themselves – when fear too often silences all of us.

But where are you really from?

DSC7801-LChristopher Lee-Rodriguez,
Boston, MA.

We don’t live in a post-racial society. We live in a post-race society. We live in a country where in a short amount of time, there will no longer be a majority race. And race is continuing to be reshaped and redefined. I am half Chinese and half Puerto Rican. I live in Boston, and I see dozens and dozens of couples of white men and Asian women. The half Asian community it doubling by the decade. There are so many Black and Latino families in this country as well. Race is not real. It is malleable. Racism is real. It’s pervasive and inside all of us. When people ask me where I’m really from, they are saying that I am not really American. Even though I’m second generation on both sides and can really only speak English, I do not look like an authentic American. I am part of the other American. The new American. And no matter how many racist cops kill people of color or disenfranchise communities, we’re still going to be around. It’s time to not only reform the system but redefine what it is to be black, Latino, Asian, and in the end, American.

One-drop rule, my a**

Nobody’s daughter,
Boston, MA.

It’s simple, really:

Anything over 50% is a majority.

Therefore, being 25% black (one black grandparent) does not equal “being black”.

I say this because I’m fed up of being told I’m crazy, or getting looks because I’m 25% black AND IDENTIFY AS WHITE.
Guess what? My kids are white; I’m not a different race from them. I gave birth to them, they share my genetics.
What’s sad is the fact that I’ve heard such ignorant things directed at us, such as: “that’s not her mother, she’s what you call an au pair” “oh, is he an albino black kid?” “She looks just like her brother!!” “Oh, you’re the mother? They must look like their father, then”

I will never identify as black, because I’m not culturally or even really racially black. And honestly, I don’t have any connection or desire to connect with blacks.

I grew up in an upper middle class white home and never thought I wasn’t mixed or culturally white/European, so…
I am who I am. If it’s becoming more accepted to be trans*, then it should be accepted that I’m a mixed white person.

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