racism: white/black and the rainbow in between

Ok, I’m coming out of the closet!  Over the past couple of months I have watched post after post being put out about some form of racism.  I have read jokes that have offended on person or the next.  I have watched as frustrated individuals have asked in lay person terms a race question, and because it was not worded politically correct, this person called a racist.  I have noticed how people have crossed the line of civil discussions on an issue to revert back to elementary name calling and throwing out threats to anothers family. 

I have held my peace through all of this as I did not want to be drawn into a conversation or debate that may or may not have made me forget what I attempt to teach my children on a daily basis.  That basic, simple, respect in given even when not received.   Now this is what I teach my children, I am not advocating you to do the same, only teaching my children that just because a person does not treat you with respect this is no reason for you to lower your standards and give it freely.  

I am biracial, my natural mother was white and father black.  I was placed up for adoption in the 60’s and adopted by a black family at 18 months.  I was born with blond hair and light hazel bluish eyes.  My original birth certificate says Caucasian female.

Growing up I had a very hard time.  First, because I didn’t accept it when I found out I was adopted.  I didn’t take it very well, and my parents didn’t address it very well.  I found out when I was 10 or 11 that I was biracial.  Talk about throwing a childs world upside down.  That was a dozy!  Why?  Because I was raised in an all black family.  In the late 60’s and early 70’s.  We all know what it was like then.  I heard about how evil the white man was.  Yes, my home was undercover racist and don’t pretend at some point yours wasn’t.  What my family did not understand or address was that every comment they made affected me.  As a child I questioned how could these people love me when I was half white.  If you remember being a child at this age, you could understand my confusion. 

I finally was able to come to a place in my life around my 20’s and realize I had a brain and feelings of my own and did not have to uphold or believe the way my parents and other family members did.  So I started questioning why I had to feel animosity towards whites when they hadn’t done anything to me.  What happened in the past happened then and I did not experience it.  My friends were white, black, and Asian.  We had our own things to worry about and decided that we would let our parents deal with the racism aspects and we would just accept each other as we were. 

So by the time I had my son, I did not teach him about the white man, the black man, or the other man, I taught him to accept people for who they were and to respect all regardless of race, religion, color or handicap. 

Now here comes the zinger!  I met my natural mother.  Wow, thank God for adoption…LOL.  This is where I learned the story of my birth.  She was not raped, and she defiantly was not my dream mother of Erica Kane.  Of course I wasn’t the Mariah Carey she imagined either.  First problem, I am just like her.  Genetics follow you.  I look like her, the darker version, and good Lord, I have the same stubbornness, and big mouth like her.

She told me how she at first wanted to keep me, but being that her daddy (my dear granddaddy) was a card toting member of the KKK, her mother informed her at the hospital that it would not be a good idea to bring this “N*gg*er  baby” home.  (Yes, it sounds ugly, but sometimes the truth is, we all know that).  I happened to agree with my grandmother.  So she placed me up for adoption.  Whew! Is all I can say.

Now, people who know my whole story understand why I am like I am.  I am the product of a Black Panther member (found this out about 10 years ago) and a trailer park redneck KKK member.  Heck, my personality didn’t have a snowball chance in hell.

Now, back to natural mother, she accepted me and my black son with open arms….almost.  Well, my son and I just had to accept the fact that we were not black.  Ok, I can see that with me, but …um, my son is a beautiful almond complexion; don’t think we can pull that one off mom.  My son and I both had to listen to my younger card toting KKK member brother and the rest of my family didn’t particularly care about blacks, (but we were not black) except with my brother.  And, yes! Every chance I got, I stuck it to my brother about him just being upset about coming out of the same ***** (I can’t say the word I use with him) that a black person did.  It’s wrong but hey, I’m not perfect, and I do so enjoy the leverage. 

I have shared all this information to let you know that, regardless to how I have been raised and the racism I have been subjected to, it came a time in my life that I had to make my own decisions and how I would choose to raise my children.  I decided that I love being biracial!  I feel I am everything that America represents.  I have the best of both bloods running through my veins.  I do not agree with everything that black leaders have to say, I do not agree with everything white leaders have to say.  I have come to a place in my life that I do not judge a person on the pigmentation of their skin, or on the neighborhood they come from.  I am not perfect; I am married to a Hispanic and still have some issues with other Hispanics.  There are many days that I have to catch myself from stereotyping Hispanic individuals.  Every day I am evolving and hoping and praying I can rise above my ignorance’s and others. 

The reason for this blog is because I was watching The View this morning and a comment was made about Senator Obama having been under the teachings of this racist Rev. Wright for over 20 years and hearing his racist view and not be in agreement with them.  When in fact this is quite possible.  I was raised listening to my parents talk about the white people and condemning of slavery and the hatred and anger that was held against whites.  I listened as my natural mother told me I wasn’t black and my brother said all us N*gg*ers were good for where to clean house and general labor.  Do I hate these people or you, who I don’t know?  NO!  I have an independent brain, I am able to look at America and the greatness of this country and have the freedom to make my own decisions.   I am not stating whether or not I like him as our next President of the United States.  I’m just saying that it is possible to listen to and have a mentor that has different views and belief than what you hold.

I choose to embrace all races, not all religions though I’m still working on that one, I accept a person on the level they are on.  If they hate all blacks or white, there is probably a good reason for their hatred or intense dislike.  Who am I to judge what shoes that person has had to walk in. 

Well, this has been along piece and I’m tired of typing now.  But just wanted to put it out that racism is a choice that we choose to make, regardless of how others believe or feel.  It’s ok to go against the flow!