Tough Choices

“The human race has only one really effective weapon and that is laughter”
--Mark Twain

Growing up with a black father and white mother, there came a point when I felt that I had to choose which race I would “categorize” my self with. Some my be able to relate on those days when you fill out forms and don’t know which box to choose.  Despite the lack of division in my family, such as divorce or a separation, I always felt like I had to make a choice, I felt like this because of the way I was treated by my friends growing up. These feelings did not take place until elementary school ended; this was also when many realities of life set in. For the record not all mixed people feel this way. For instance, my older brother and sister do not think they ever had to choose.

In elementary school everything is bliss, being cool, popular, differences in race, intelligence, these things did not divide me from my peers, yet. Once I got to middle school these issues came to up very often. I don’t know of any profound event that may have taken place in middle school, which could have changed my reality. The middle school that I went to was extremely violent, and for an extremely skinny, weak girl, I had to figure myself out quick! In this atmosphere hormones were raging, fights EVERYDAY, girls fighting over boys, guys fighting over nothing, you never knew what would happen next.  While defining myself there was not a moment when I sent out a massive memo saying, “I identify with Black people more!”  No, that would have been ridiculous!

This process was one that was highly influenced by relationships. First my relationship with my mother is quite unique compared to the typical mother-daughter relationship. We are very much alike and interact like good friends.  She possessed a very dominate, straight forward personality, in which she is strong, loud and opinionated and proud of it, this was a major influence on me.   These traits many times parallel to the Black community.  Growing up my friends would say “Ya momma acts Black!” Personally, I never thought so, to me, she was just a strong woman.

The second influential portion of the unconscious decision was the way that my female friends treated me. For instance, in middle school all of my classes where with the advanced kids, which was not usually a very diverse classroom. In class I got along with all of the students very well, I was the type to never “cliché” myself up with any one group. I was a mingler. More specifically, girls that I went to elementary school with began to no longer invite me to their house. People with whom I had classes with did not invite me to their house.  As we got older too, we all continued to go our own way, further dividing us all from one another. I learned that at some point in your life you just have to accept the realities that you face and either embrace them or fight them. In the situation of friendships and respect you can’t really fight it, so I just accepted it and moved on. I ended up learning so much from my Black girl friends in terms of Black culture the way we talk, walk and interact. I was raised in a family where after twenty- two years of observance, I understand each culture much better and why each one behaves the way they do.  

"I was about four years old here, watching my older brother play baseball."

"Michigan's Adventure...twice the fun (especially when you sneak out to go!)"

“An after school party I had at my parents' house with all of my good friends, 2001”