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White indigenous girl adopted white family

Hannah Anderson,
Southeastern Community College, IA

>My upbringing was different than most, I visited a majority of North America by 13. As a child I had always adapted to every culture I was placed in, rather than have a full knowledge or identity of my own. Adopted within a year to a white family. My adoptive mom, Irish and raised in the suburbs by her biological parents. My adoptive father had a single father also being white, indigenous, and adopted shared a similar outcaste as me. I grew up attending pow wows and potlucks, a taste of both worlds essentially but never being able to fully claim any identity of my own. I felt more at home at pow wows than pot lucks for sure. Yet I never understood who I was or where I came from other than knowing I was adopted. Until meeting my birth family, I found understanding and closeness as did he. We were able to implicate more parts of our culture into our blended lives through traditions, recipes, celebrations and pastimes. Our birth families helped us better understand the parts of us we felt missing or misunderstood.

My Not So White Life

photo-22Joye Beard,
Corpus Christi, TX.

In the 23 years that my husband and I have been married I’ve noticed some disconcerting things about being in a mixed race marriage. First, I’m not comfortable around other white people at all. If they’re open minded it’s not so bad. But most are not, and once they learn that I’m married to someone from Mexico you can see judgment in their faces. Second, Hispanics and other ethnicities are often apprehensive of me until they meet my husband. As though marrying a minority makes me less threatening or approachable or maybe even less of a white woman. But I think the thing that makes me really upset is the assumption that if a white woman is married to a Hispanic male she must be uneducated and poor (not our case at all). I can’t tell you the number of times my husband and I would be in line at the grocery store and the checkout person’s first response is…will you be using food stamps or WIC? It’s that kind of common place stereotyping that makes me wonder how we as a society will overcome the race card.

Rooted in Hatred, Risen in Audacity

Ellis Clark,
Spain.

As a seventeen-year-old black male, my view to race has been cushioned by growing up in a comfortable, yet politically aware household. While I knew racism existed, it rarely touched me growing up, and when it did, it was the microagressive type. Real issues with race didn’t begin to pop up for me until middle school, and my view on race is now that it is an important part of my identity, regardless of the tribulations that people attach to it. I wouldn’t be who I am without being black, and the thought of not being black is one that never crosses my mind. Although I struggle sometimes with the implications of my race, I think of the feats my ancestors overcame with grace and know that my life today is impossible without the fighting sacrifices they made for me. Rooted in hatred as it may be, my race is risen on account of the audacity of those before us. We owe it to them to continue on with their torch to the mountaintop.

Don’t fake equality for your convenience.

Meah,
Raleigh, NC

I see too many times, people faking their support for minority groups when they want to come across inclusive. Once they are surrounded by people, they are “comfortable” around; they reveal their true identity as racist and noninclusive. It is convenient for them to be able to hide in a place they can say and feel whatever they please. Minority groups are constantly surrounded by racism and bigotry. There is no way for them to escape the racism in the world. It’s in public, on social media, and even on TV. I feel it is apart of my job as a young adult in America today to try and eliminate as much possible racism as I can for the people who are just as special and equal as any other person.

Continually frustrated by America’s racial hangups

Whitney,
Durham, NC.

More 6-word offerings…
– Life was less racial in Europe
– Look black, more than half white
– Ticked one box, denied one parent
– Forced to deny half my heritage
– Why should I pick just one?

It’s not that race isn’t an issue in Europe, more that after nearly 8 years living there, I felt more comfortable and more accepted for my mixed race. More people knew at a glance that I wasn’t “just” black, that I was multiple races. Not only that, but there were more boxes for me to tick. There were more options. I didn’t have to choose just one, as I did when registering at the DMV in North Carolina.

We are who we make us

IMG_0419-1Desiree’ Parker,
Sacramento, CA.

In a room full of black people I am comfortable, in a room full of white people I am comfortable, in a room full of mixed races I am comfortable. I act “black”, but I have no reason to hate them just as they have no reason to hate me. We all descended from the same root, mankind. You define your ethnicity, your culture, and you ultimately your limits. But our race… that is human.

Get comfortable being the outlier.

Vishnu Rajan
East Fishkill, NY

Most of my life, I’ve been an outlier. I was one of 10 non- whites in my graduating high school class of 870. I’m short, I’m young for my year, and my family at home is different from everyone else’s. It took me many years to finally be ok with that and to not feel that I had to fit a certain mold, but that I could still pursue what I wanted and in cases get recognized since I was generically an outlier.

Once comfortable, now uneasy, often distrusting

Channey Johnson
Dallas, TX

I did everything that I thought you should do to live a comfortable life. I went to bed at reasonable hours in the night, I only skipped school once, I studied, I went to college, got my Masters Degree and my Doctoral Degree in Education. I worked hard. I joined a church. Thinking I was giving back, I volunteered to help start a school. I wasn’t offered a job. I began to feel uncomfortable and ultimately resigned. Now it seems that others are benefitting when I am not. I feel my own race made a mockery of me trying to help them. Those six words describe how I feel now about them, myself…

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