Just like I do whenever race is an issue that makes national news. It's such an interesting concept, with so many layers--each of which is hidden because each person can truly see only their own perspective. No matter what.
But we, as Americans, have spent a lot of time trying to right the wrongs of our racist past. We spend billions of dollars each year on public and private programs which attempt to tilt the scale back to some sort of equality, usually aimed at "inner-city youth"--a euphemism for African-American teenagers.* I will not argue against these programs. I firmly believe in them, in fact, and fully support the sentiment behind them.
But race, as a cultural issue in the United States, is tricky. Obviously, it is a social construct. However, even the anti-racist movement is a social construct that marginalizes a sector of the population.
Until relatively recently, race consisted of black and white. Since then, many ethnic populations have tried to bring to light their own situation in which they are neither and thus excluded by both. Because of their efforts, we now have a crude triangle of race: black, white, and everything else.
So let's brainstorm, shall we? Who falls into "everything else"? Latino and Hispanic populations. Native Americans. Asians. Indians. Middle Eastern peoples of various descent. Australian Aboriginals. And within each of these groups, there are more divisions still. Even if you are entirely bigoted, think of it logically: How can we possibly lump these together?
But we do. Every goddamn day. And it's even worse for those of mixed race, whose identity is (god forbid) somewhere along one of the triangle's lines, far enough from the point of self-knowledge that they are excluded from each group though they cling to both.
And this seems obvious, but it isn't. Because there is no way that I truly can make you understand the plight of these people unless you are one. The pain of having your identity continually ripped from you for the sake of convenience to others--or worse, being stretched like a rubber band between two identities, each of which reject you for being too like the other.
And I won't shut up about it. I wish I was the last Third Race child who asked "Mommy, am I black?" because racial dichotomy does not equip me with the language to identify myself. I wish I was the only multiracial one who had ever cried myself to sleep because in the same day I had been told I was "so white" and "not white enough".
I am not the last. I am not the only. And until we, the Great Melting Pot, the Salad Bowl, the Cultural Mosaic, can learn to discuss, accept, and love each sparkling tile which defines us, I will keep screaming. Someone will hear me, someone will join me. We will provide the language, destroy the dichotomy, eliminate the pain. We will learn to love, if it is the last goddamn thing we do.
______________________________________
*The issue of ageism and its intersection with racism is a fascinating one, though will not be addressed here.
But we, as Americans, have spent a lot of time trying to right the wrongs of our racist past. We spend billions of dollars each year on public and private programs which attempt to tilt the scale back to some sort of equality, usually aimed at "inner-city youth"--a euphemism for African-American teenagers.* I will not argue against these programs. I firmly believe in them, in fact, and fully support the sentiment behind them.
But race, as a cultural issue in the United States, is tricky. Obviously, it is a social construct. However, even the anti-racist movement is a social construct that marginalizes a sector of the population.
Until relatively recently, race consisted of black and white. Since then, many ethnic populations have tried to bring to light their own situation in which they are neither and thus excluded by both. Because of their efforts, we now have a crude triangle of race: black, white, and everything else.
So let's brainstorm, shall we? Who falls into "everything else"? Latino and Hispanic populations. Native Americans. Asians. Indians. Middle Eastern peoples of various descent. Australian Aboriginals. And within each of these groups, there are more divisions still. Even if you are entirely bigoted, think of it logically: How can we possibly lump these together?
But we do. Every goddamn day. And it's even worse for those of mixed race, whose identity is (god forbid) somewhere along one of the triangle's lines, far enough from the point of self-knowledge that they are excluded from each group though they cling to both.
And this seems obvious, but it isn't. Because there is no way that I truly can make you understand the plight of these people unless you are one. The pain of having your identity continually ripped from you for the sake of convenience to others--or worse, being stretched like a rubber band between two identities, each of which reject you for being too like the other.
And I won't shut up about it. I wish I was the last Third Race child who asked "Mommy, am I black?" because racial dichotomy does not equip me with the language to identify myself. I wish I was the only multiracial one who had ever cried myself to sleep because in the same day I had been told I was "so white" and "not white enough".
I am not the last. I am not the only. And until we, the Great Melting Pot, the Salad Bowl, the Cultural Mosaic, can learn to discuss, accept, and love each sparkling tile which defines us, I will keep screaming. Someone will hear me, someone will join me. We will provide the language, destroy the dichotomy, eliminate the pain. We will learn to love, if it is the last goddamn thing we do.
______________________________________
*The issue of ageism and its intersection with racism is a fascinating one, though will not be addressed here.
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