The Race Card Project
By Michele Norris
Gym Rati,
Pasadena, CA.
We were on a road trip and in Colorado a restaurant displayed a sign that Mexicans were not allowed. We sent in our light skinned cousin for takeout. The hamburger felt like sand in my mouth. I was 10 years old.
Rosina B.,
Temecula, CA.
African Americans come in all colors and hues, and just because my skin may be light it does not make me a lesser African American, it only make me more proud to be who I am!!
Heleen Moyer,
Troy, PA
Growing up, being a mixed girl, -also with a Hispanic father that was never around- , I never felt like I fit into a group. I was always too dark skinned to feel like I related to my white friends. But, I was too light skinned to feel like I fit in with my black friends. Being Hispanic felt like I had another shot at feeling some kind of belonging, I quickly realized how shameful it was to that group that I didn’t speak Spanish. Being a young girl it was incredibly difficult to feel like I belonged somewhere, or that people related to my issues. & it has definitely left a vacant space in me that still isn’t sure what category I really belong too. I know now as an adult it shouldn’t matter much, but it feels like it carries a much heavier weight now in light of social justice issues.
Arturo Hull,
Anchorage, AK.
My mom is Syrian, Iraqi, Egyptian, Greek, Italian, Swiss-German, Austrian, South German, English, Norwegian and Danish. My dad is English, Scottish, Irish, Swedish, German, Polish, and Russian. I am light-skinned and can easily pass as French or Italian, but I embrace my Arab roots to the fullest and enjoy foods like Falafel, ful medames, and baklava. I also celebrate Arab holidays, such as Syrian Independence Day and Syrian Revolution Day. When I go to synagogue for Shabbat, I try to attend a Sephardic Synagogue and I eat qitnyot on Shabbat.
Ebony Nichole,
Cincinnati, OH
For three days after my birth I was nameless because my Mama didn’t know she was having a girl. Born very light-skinned, my now very dark complexion didn’t come in until I was a week old. My mother’s friend came to the hospital to visit and brought her an Ebony Magazine. My mama asked her friend for girl name suggestions, and she recommended to name me….Ebony! My Daddy was adamant in choosing my middle name which is….Nichole. I share this naming story because it will become very significant in just a little bit, but first let me share some knowledge about racism.
Racism is a mental illness in case you weren’t aware. Just think about it, to harbor feelings of hatred towards disliked groups for reasons of skin color which is outside of anyone’s control. To physically attack, demean, belittle, have prejudice, bigotry, murder, discriminate for the mere reasoning of one’s hatred of skin color is delusional, and these are symptoms of mental illness. In America, it has become the accepted norm for the vast majority of it’s white population to have this mental illness. I am living in a world specifically in a country where living with the mentally ill has been tolerated, but no longer. I will no longer be a victim subjected to this kind of treatment and abuse. Since, I was a child I have been traumatized by racist acts against me, because of my dark skin. Normally, when someone is deemed mentally ill they seek mental health treatment, and/or hospitalization.
Now, here’s where the significance of my name comes into play. I have a purpose here on earth. My name was given to me by divine design, one that I was not aware of until just a few years ago. Let me break down the meaning of my name Ebony Nichole. Ebony means Black, and Nichole means the Victory of the people, now put those two together and you get…… Black People’s Victory!
I no longer apologize for my blackness and my black culture. I utilize every moment as a teaching moment for my white brothers and sisters to give them knowledge. You see Racism is not a black issue, but a white issue and they just need some education and connection in order for them to understand and accept that there is a problem in this country, and they can make a difference. I will continue on my mission to try and make a difference in this country and stand against racism, inequality, and injustice.
My name has a meaning and a purpose, and I will do everything to fulfill it.
Audrey Stygar,
Pittsburgh, PA
It’s lonely living between white and South American. My mom refers to me as white and doesn’t like to hear about racial difficulties I have. I’m light skinned, but people still comment on my complexion and try to guess where I’m from. I don’t know what I am. I’m trying to teach myself Spanish now that I’m in my late 20s, and I feel so lost and disconnected from this whole half of myself.
Denise Shirley-Carter,
Hudson, WI
My father is white, Irish, Scottish, etc. My mother’s parents were from Mexico, Spain, then El Paso, TX. However, both my parents are light skinned, my mother very white, so I have a very pale complexion. I have always gotten “but you don’t look half Mexican” or “I don’t believe you” or even from my own (half) sister, “I always forget you’re half Mexican”. Although I am not in contact with my mother, I loved my grandparents and am proud to have that as part of my heritage, my race. However, when people tell you they don’t believe you, it does cut. I cannot even imagine what others have to deal with. My issue is so small in comparison. I am seen as white from people who would prefer I be white, and seen as white by everyone else, as well. I wish I could say it doesn’t matter, but it does.
Tony Reyes,
Portland, OR.
I’m half Latino. My mother is a white, evangelical, conservative. I came home the night Obama was re-elected and asked if she had heard the results. The above statement was how she very bitterly responded. Apparently people of color aren’t intellectually capable of choosing a president on the basis of anything else but race. I have quite a few memories concerning race that fill me with anger. Anger both at people and at myself for not standing up. Because I’m light-skinned, I’ve been present during times where groups of white people (I grew up in the suburbs) think there’s no one around to offend. Out of all the stories I could have chosen, I chose this story to illustrate that racism is real, it’s painful, and literally no sector of society is immune to it. Not even family. I feel much better just from writing this.
Rhiannon Watkins,
Centennial, CO.
Why are magazines always filled with white and light-skinned women? I have never in my life had a shortage of skinny, white girls to look up to in the media, but where are all the black and brown models? Why am I automatically considered prettier than any other girl because I have lighter skin than her? Why do people feel the need to put down girls of color to make me feel better about myself? And why is it that when I get a tan, it makes me ‘even prettier’, but when a black girl is naturally dark-skinned, she’s ‘too dark’? Why do I get pushed to keep going out to tan more and more, but when that’s someone’s natural skin tone, it’s undesirable? When do we draw the line on what is considered ‘too dark’? When she doesn’t have ‘White’ features? When her hair isn’t blonde and her eyes aren’t blue or green? Girls with dark skin is just as beautiful as me with my white skin, and they always will be.
Toya Dragseth,
Saint Paul, MN.
My youngest son is biracial. Has his Fathers genes, very light-skinned, brownish blonde hair and when he is with just me, people look as if he is not my child but a child I may be babysitting. When he’s with his dad they look very natural together.
Vernae Williams,
Sacramento, CA.
I grew up in a family full of light skinned people. I always felt like an outsider because within the Black community light skin is seen as the “right skin”, and dark skin is viewed as being ugly. Growing up I never truly felt comfortable in my own skin due to the stigma associated with dark skin. I can’t begin to count how many times I have been told, “you are pretty for a dark skinned girl”. People would feel as though they were giving me a compliment, but they were doing the exact opposite. I want people to know that all shades of Black is beautiful! My Black is beautiful!
Maria Victoria Salazar,
Mobile, AL.
Hi! My heritage is a little more complicated than others’, especially here in the Deep South. I have roots in Mexico and Costa Rica (which of course are from deeper roots in Spain), Italy, and a dash of Ireland from my great-grandmother. However, according to the culture my family and I participate in most, we are Latin American. That’s cool and all, but it poses an identification issue for me, my sisters, and some of my cousins. I’ve lived in Alabama my whole life. And while I like some of the perks of living down here, some other things piss me off. Like, why does everyone need to belong in a certain category? Why do I have to look like I belong to a certain people? And when people find out that I’m not like them, why do they have to focus on the differences when, in fact, we have so much in common? Yea, it’s kinda weird down here. Most people don’t think Latinas should be light-skinned, which I totally am, but Latinas come in all different shapes, sizes, and colors. They’re surprised when they find out that “this white girl” is pretty good at soccer, or has nice curves, or can dance! But when I make it known that I am Latina, they also are surprised that I have a bachelor’s degree in Biomedical Sciences and a well paying job that doesn’t require manual labor. The only thing they don’t seem surprised about is that I have a sexy black boyfriend, who has direct roots to Nigeria. But even though it seems like I’m ranting on and on, really I’m very happy. I can be whoever I want! I don’t need racial barriers or expectations to fulfill! And that is the coolest thing about being multiracial/multicultural! So, peace out America and let the world know how beautiful it is to be different.
Tarnaei Carter,
Chicago, IL.
I am light skinned and people may think I’m not only black because I’m light skinned so I identify as black.
Lisa Dawson Andrzejczyk,
Palm Coast, FL.
I am black.. I never thought of myself as anything else. I am light-skinned for certain, clearly aware that few if any of my African ancestors exited a slave ship looking like me; but ever since I was a little girl people felt if was someone appropriate to ask me what my ethnicity was. “What are you? always confused me.. I am a girl.. I am teenager, a woman, a lawyer, a wife a daughter, a mother… oh you mean what race am I? I was not raised to be color blind but I was raised to understand that your race has no bearing on your character so why my race was so confusing to people. I am aware that I am a mix of a variety of genetic influences but that is hardly something I had any control over.
Stephanie Diane Scott-Melnyk,
Washington, DC.
My father is a light-skinned black man. My mother is an extremely fair white woman. For at least the 40 years I can remember, I have felt required to fight for the recognition of my black heritage. My race card is a statement made to me at least once a year by white people. As though I chose my eye color as a way to attempt to pass.
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