I remember when I was in elementary school and my mom took me to a picnic hosted by my school. One of my classmates came running up to me once my mom walked a couple feet away to talk with the other parents. My classmate said, "Wow you're adopted too just like me!" I looked at her confused. I told her, "No I'm not, that's my mom." She looked at me and said, "No you must be adopted you don't look like your mom! "Your skin is not quite the same." And then she ran off to the jungle gym. I stood there very confused. Thinking, I don't look like my mom? My mom and I are different than each other? Am I really adopted and that's not my mom? At that moment I realized race. Before that I was happily content playing with everyone and not noticing differences in appearances as a big deal. Not knowing our culture's obsession with race.
When I arrived home, I asked my mom whether or not I was adopted. She told me that no I wasn't that we were considered a mixed race family. She explained to me what that meant. My mom explained that she was considered to be white and my father was African and considered to be black. She also explained that my older sister and I were a mixture of the two. After that experience, I became conscious of race.
When I was young, I was lucky in the fact that where we lived in Madison there was a high mixture of different races living in our neighborhood. I was exposed to different cultures and played with children of all races. But when I was getting ready to go into 6th grade my family and I moved to Indiana. There I noticed a huge divide between different races. Nothing that I was used to at all! There was even a black and white side of town. Not officially but everyone knew it. When I was in middle school in Indiana my parents registered me for all honors classes (except gym and choir). Including me, there were two people of color in the honors classes. My whole middle school experience was vastly different than anything I experienced in high school. Since 5/7 of my classes were honors and I spent most of my time with the students in those classes it was assumed that I wanted nothing to do with my "black side" which was not the case. Before I started sixth grade my mother sat my sister and I down and told us that we would have to pick which side we wanted to associate ourselves with. After, that shocking conversation I decided that I wasn't going to pick a side and that it made no sense. But unfortunately, sometimes society decides for you (in this case middle schoolers). I tell you I was happy when we moved out of Indiana and back to Wisconsin after I graduated middle school!
I remember once in sixth grade when we had to take a standardized test. The teacher had us first fill out the informational part first; name, birthdate, race, etc. I was filling in the bubbles until I reached the race question. At that time probably 2003 there was no bubble for multiracial or biracial. I sat there not knowing which bubble to fill in. I looked around and everyone had completed that section quickly and was waiting to start the test. I had no idea what to put, I felt that if I put white then I would be leaving out my Congolese side and if I put black then I was leaving out my white side. I'm both why do I have to choose? I heard the teacher say time to take the test! I skipped the question and started the test but it was still in the back of my mind about how I would answer the question.
A lot of standardized tests and applications today do have mixed/biracial as a choice or you can select more than one race. But I still find some do not, for those I simply don't respond to that question. I personally don't think it's fair that you would have to just select one.
I also grew fed up with people trying to define who I was. "You're too white to be black" (whatever that means) or "Well, your half black so you're black." Why is American society so obsessed with race? Why do you people feel more comfortable when they can put you in a neat and tidy box? Why do I have to choose? Does it really matter? As a sociologist, I really do believe that race is just a social construct. For the past few years I've decided that I would define myself. I am mixed. I am happily Congolese and white. I'm both and not ashamed of either!
