I grew up in Jamaica where the term “black” wasn’t really used. Perhaps because 91% of Jamaicans are primarily of African descent and have the power to classify themselves, and the classification they choose is simply ‘Jamaican’. Jamaicans of non-African descent tend not to differentiate. Growing up I never heard “Chinese Jamaican” or “Indian Jamaican”. It was just “Jamaican”.
Now, colorism exists in Jamaica, very much so. Terms like “browning” and “coolie” are used to differentiate between ebony skinned Jamaicans, and those of a lighter tone. But colorism in Jamaica is nothing like racism in America, where discrimination has strong roots in the legal system, education, economics and housing policy.
Although the term “black” wasn’t used in Jamaica, I knew how to code switch when I spent summers in the midwestern United States to visit my Mom’s family. There I was black. I attended Christian summer camp with black kids from inner city Detroit who marveled at my accent and begged me and my siblings to teach them Jamaican patois. We traded snacks; banana chips for Cheetos, tamarind balls for Now and Laters. I was young and innocent. The term “black” was new, cool and fun.
Then I got older.
I remember watching American news in the kitchen with my mom one hot day. The newscaster was talking about “minorities”. The look on his face was so casual as he said the word, but it sounded so ugly that my heart stopped. The pictures flashing across the screen were of brown skinned people — blacks, Latinos, Asians.
‘Minorities?’ I thought. It was the first time I’d ever heard the term. ‘Did it mean they had a minority of intellect? Of influence? Of significance?’ Troubled, I asked my father. He laughed, then explained that the term meant they were part of an ethnic group that was numerically less than whites, who were the majority. I nodded, but the term didn’t sit well with me. It still doesn’t.
When I turned 17 I moved to the United States permanently to attend college. I went to a very conservative, heavily Republican, majority white evangelical Christian college, and that is when the full pejorative force of the word “black” hit me in the face like a ton of bricks.
I met white students who had been taught in their churches that black people were a cursed race. Students who had never seen a black person and wondered if my brown skin was dirty. Students who thought I was filthy for not washing my hair every day. Students who walked up to me and immediately started talking slang — slang that I didn’t even understand because I’d been raised in Jamaica.
I was deeply depressed that first year of college. My African American friends tried to console me and convince me that it wasn’t so bad. They introduced me to popular African American culture, dance, food and music. They invited me to their homes and churches for Thanksgiving, Juneteenth, and Christmas. With their help I was able to turn my melancholy into a determined activism.
I started a blog called Black Girl with Long Hair with the dual intent of teaching natural hair care and re-affirming the beauty of brown skin and kinky hair. I finally felt at peace with the term “black”.
And then I had a son.
Here’s the thing… My son is not black. The color of his skin is brown — as is my skin, as is my husband’s skin, as is your skin. Even the darkest people in the world are not black, but a deep, rich shade of brown.
And I wonder if, one day, this precious boy will look up at me, and ask me why I call him black when he is indeed brown.
I am old enough to understand that it was a pejorative term used for people of African descent that we’ve managed, to some degree, to re-claim. But just reading the history of the term “black” reveals its ugliness.
From Wikipedia:
In the first 200 years that black people were in the United States, they commonly referred to themselves as Africans. In Africa, people primarily identified themselves by ethnic group (closely allied to language) and not by skin color. Individuals identified themselves, for example, as Ashanti, Igbo, Bakongo, or Wolof, and others. But when Africans were brought to the Americas, they were often combined with other groups from Africa, and individual ethnic affiliations were not generally acknowledged by English colonists. In areas of the Upper South, different ethnic groups were brought together. This is significant as Africans came from a vast geographic region: the West African coastline stretching from Senegal to Angola and in some cases from the south-east coast such as Mozambique.
A new identity and culture was born that incorporated elements of the various ethnic groups and of European cultural heritage, resulting in fusions such as the Black church and Black English. This new identity was based on African ancestry and slave status rather than membership in any one ethnic group. By contrast, slave records from Louisiana show that the French and Spanish colonists recorded more complete identities of Africans, including ethnicities and given tribal names.
The US racial or ethnic classification “black” refers to people with all possible kinds of skin pigmentation, from the darkest through to the very lightest skin colors, including albinos, if they are believed by others to have African ancestry (in any discernible percentage), or to exhibit cultural traits associated with being “African American.”
The term was a lazy way to categorize a group of people. It was created to contrast with white culture and people, who were viewed as beautiful, pure and virtuous. In becoming “black”, African Americans were stripped of their ethnic identities. Lately there has been a movement among African Americans to trace their ancestry. It’s something I want to do for myself and my husband. But in the meanwhile I am left with my son, a brown boy who America calls black — not because it is anatomcially correct, but as part of a system that chops society into crass distinctions, creates hierarchies, and uses those hierarchies to determine who is worthy of protection and dignity.
And yes, we have reclaimed. I know that black is beautiful. I know that black is powerful.
But I can’t deny that the legacy of the term is mixed.
Am I ready to introduce my son to that legacy and incorporate him into it? I’m not sure.
Ladies, I would looove to hear your thoughts on this? Am I alone here? How are you introducing your children to black culture and, more specifically, to the terminology?
It’s really something you brought this topic up bc I deal with this right now. The other day at my doc appt I had to fill out some paper work and they ask you if your Black/African american. I get so bothered by it bc when I look at my skin it is not Black. It’s brown. .maybe even dark brown. But it’s not the color of black. I dealt with this at school growing up and even when I use to work with women/ men that were of other ethnicity and when they would refer to me it would be the “black girl”. Then I would feel the need to get ethnic and share my piece of mind by asking them can you please show me the color black and put it near my skin and tell me does my skin look anything like that color. Grrrrrr but then I had to come to my senses and realize that they were just going by what they were taught and what they thought they knew. All I know is that I am not a color. And I want to teach my children the same thing. To not call people by their color if they can help it, but to learn where they are from or their back ground and ask them what they would like to be called before assuming by color.
I LOVE this article.
There is so much I would like to say to this topic, I will keep it down.
It should be understood by many black ppl – It should be taught in schools, and not only to kids.
I am african, leave in Europe and we get of course like all black ppl around the world, we are taught that Black ppl are bad, dark, poor, dirty, hungry and all that. One generation after the other.
Another example that makes me mad/sad are term like “Afro-American” when there is no “European-American” (seriously, Caucasian is a strange term), or all the names given to our hair…now, this topic would be to long.
What I am just trying to say, is that we have to be aware that especially the media is trying to CONTINIOUSLY condition us in a way that we all firmly believe (as you perfectly wrote) black IS pejorative.
We have been conditioned to think that we are an exception to the rule.
Thinking further, I strongly believe that they are (all) afraid of us, and that it is the only way to keeps us down. And it works.
Thanks to Kim for: “..I am not a color”. I have a son as well and first of all, he is a boy.
Great post, Leila. When my son asks me what color people are, I tell him. I tell him he is light brown/dark beige and I am brown and daddy is beige. I tell him this because I know that that is what he is asking me. He is not asking me what racial classification people belong to, because he is only three. As he gets older and can understand the concept of race, then I will introduce it to him.
I understand that black parents want to introduce a strong sense of racial identity to their children, but they forget about the developmental limitations of children. Race is an abstract concept that even many adults don’t understand.
I am also going to try to raise my kids with a strong biracial identity, not lump them in as black. It’s weird because when I was younger I identified strongly with the idea that biracial people “have to” identify as black. But as I got older, I thought about how they are just as much white as black, and many black people don’t consider biracial people “really black” anyway, so why encourage my kids to beat their heads against a wall? I want them to have strong sense of pride and identity for both sides of their background.
Finally (can you tell this is a passion point of mine?) I am seeing the importance of really limiting what media my kids consume. Like we were watching the news about the pitcher who used pine tar on his neck and they had a clip of the ball player and a white commentator saying how “Stupid stupid stupid” the black ball player was for making the tar so obvious, while the pic of the player is on the screen. Stuff like that happens everyday! That’s when my tivo pause and fast forward buttons get a workout.
I respectfully disagree in your assertion that your 3 year old probably doesn’t understand the concept of race and is not asking you about racial classification. I will forever remember the moment when driving down the street my then 3-year old asked me a question about “the white girl” jogging down the street. I was mortified that he used her race as the identity marker. Race is so very pervasive in the U.S. especially as a way of classifying people. To my chagrin, I began to realize how often I used race, not in a demeaning way, but simply to describe someone. It was at age 3 where my son really began to pick up on ethnic differences and became fascinated with Asians. So we openly talk about race/ethnicity. He’s now 4 and clearly knows that his best friends Huang Gwan and Malachi are Asian (Chinese) and Puerto Rican, respectively.
Hmm. If the color box to click was
a) blue/black/brown/beige
b) cream, pink
d) yellow
Would ‘black” still be such an issue?
I lived in Spain for 2 years and to many Spaniards “morena” (brown) is especially beautiful. Even black (negra) is not a pejorative. Negra just “is”… a plain ole color, that did not define the person. As far as beauty goes, the more morena the better. The browner your eyes the more interesting. No one in Spain had brown eyes as deep as mine. Most of them had what they though of and I quote “boring hazel eyes”!!! Blue was also cool because it was not hazel, but for them deep brown was as up there as blue!
Of course so many Spanish people have the name Maria or Jose that they don’t even care about being called “the fat Maria”, “the tall Jose”, “the big old glasses Maria”. Working like a black person means that you are working hard.
I had to learn how not to be offended over there for the fat Joses and the big teeth Albertos, because none of them cared about being called something that easily described them! Those words were just adjectives so that people can describe the feature that sticks out the most about a person. Being embarrassed about that feature was a waste of energy.
The automatic negative association with who is “black” and who is “brown” is something that I find much more more in the “Black”, Carribbean and African community. Many brown people are on a day to day basis, “more down on black and brown” than I find in some white people! Then again I’m from Brooklyn and I went to lots of “avoid a race riot” diversity classes in my very liberal HS.
It wouldn’t be the first time we redefined what we called ourselves. It used to be the “negro” race (whatever that means), then black, then Afro-American, then African American.
All the associations are just that associations. White people today can’t help that we are offended no matter how politically correct they are trying to be.
I’m not going to teach my son to be argumentative and defensive over a color.
When white teenagers were asked in my HS when they think of a black person what do they think of, after we got past rap music, gold chains and baggy jeans, we got to “attitude”, “argumentative”, “easily offended” and “chip on the shoulder” as descriptors. Ouch.
Don’t worry, we didn’t let them slide. We went there with “above it all”, “privileged”, “racist”, “insensitive”, “cowards” and afraid to stand up for what is right.
We eventually got past all of that and talked about the person, and the groups of people and the commonalities and the differences and how they don’t define us, unless we give them permission.
People will call my son black. While I’m afraid for what it means to have a black son, denying it won’t make the possibility of him getting shot for some foolishness by a white man who won’t see the inside of a jail any easier. My heart bleeds but I won’t let that deter me from doing what I can to make the world a better place one open heart at a time.
Your average 5 year old child is “with it” to understand he is obviously not the color black. He’s Julius or “Lightening McQueen” and a good friend who is kind, imaginative, shares, gives good hugs and apologizes when he is wrong.
If we are going to go by color he’s technically more brown than black and after having a laugh about why they call people who are obviously brown, black they will learn that words are only approximate depictions of what “is”, and they are by nature imprecise.
And that can be the beginning of a discussion about defining humanity as a whole and how we individuals fit in it.
Shaniqua,
Thanks for your reflection. I appreciate it
But I do want to point out that my concern expressed in the article is not with teaching white people what to call my son, or what is politically correct or okay.
My article was supposed to focus on SELF-definition (I hope I got that across). It was about my personal journey to self-identify, and reflecting on how that journey will be for my son.
It was a great article, but I didn’t get the point was self identity. To me self identity has nothing to do with nationality, race, gender or ethnicity. Those are things that my SELF identifies with.
At first I couldn’t tell if you were more bothered by the term black or minority. Then I saw a sadness about accepting these social constructs as your identity, then a certain pride… until you had your son. I think it’s scarier to accept that term for him because of what black boy means in this country.
I have a son. I totally feel that.
But I’m confused about the point. No matter what you call a boy who is black here it can make them a target. Nigger, negro, black, brown, beige, African American doesn’t matter with the law or crazy racists.
Aren’t all identifiers social constructs, and kinda lazy? A way to group people without having knowledge of them? Otherwise you call them their name (another social construct) or describe their heart, but that can get long and complicated so we short-cut.
I personally don’t see how identification via nationality is any less lazy than gay, woman, black or white. You might not ever really feel comfortable being black, but your son might grow to have a certain comfort in it, as you did. Black may have been a more accurate description of what we really were until all the rape happened. Look at Alex Wek. Blue-black and VERY beautiful. Beauty is as beauty does and she is beautiful inside and out. But that is another story. Now we are much more brown & beige than black. So what do we do we call the half-breeds, and octoroons? Do we not let them be black because of a technicality that had no control over? Being “black” we took ourselves back in.
I’ve never felt comfortable with the term African American… especially once I became aware of recently emigrated Africans in NYC. I know that when people say African American that, they are generally referring to me, but the most “American” I ever felt was when I was in Spain. “Americans of African Descent” resonates with me, but it’s too long to say… so yes, lazy about not using that, I suppose.
I love the idea of Africa but I don’t really know it. I can’t tell a Nigerian from a Ghanan from a South African. I don’t even know the names of the ethnicities there. I don’t believe that having or not having knowledge of these things define me. I also don’t believe that the experience of what happened to my people once they had the first chains on them and made it to America the hard way is any less valid. For sure that was the “Black” experience.
To me African American is desperate sounding. Reaching for something that you will never really have unless you emigrated back to the motherland and reclaimed it. Something that I’m not going to do right now, though I might some day.
I believe African American is more appropriate to people who can and have traced their roots back there, have gone there and gotten to know it or recently emigrated from there, but immigrants generally say their country or ethnicity, not “African”.
If all we have left of Africa are the chains, the stripped nationality, stripped culture and stripped ethnicity and had to exchange it for “black” AND the history and legacy we have created on this side, so be it. Black is all we have left of that, and I’m OK with that. Can’t change history.
Also, I’m trying to picture a situation where I’m the one to call my son black. I generally call him by his name, but since I let him watch his first movie a few months ago, lately he’s a Disney character. This is actually ticking me off because I love his name and what it represents for ME, but then there is the sneaky little voice that tells me he is making his first attempt at defining himself and not to squash that.
Like most Black Americans he will probably hear someone else call him black first. I personally have only a positive association with black as a definitive term. My mom had me read Assata Shakur, Malcolm X and I Have a Dream as soon as I was able. I love MLK but I’m not about to call myself (or anyone else) a negro (NEE-Gro) even though I know now that it is only a bad pronunciation of the spanish word negro (Ne-gro).
That other people think, sinister, son of Ham, dirty and sinner etc. when they think black is not my load to carry. I feel sorry for them, pray for them and keep it moving.
Again, all I’m saying is that the issue of self-identification is a complicated one for all people of African descent in America. And I wasn’t so much trying to make a ‘point’ as to talk about my personal life and experience. Because of our history and our ‘present’ state in America, I think that the are no really great options for what to ‘call’/refer to onesself..
And as I mentioned, I grew up in a country where I never had to really ‘self identify’ because everyone was of African descent, and identified by ethnicity (Jamaican) rather than race. It’s a luxury I don’t have in America.
Of course I’m not going to walk up to my son one day and say, “You are a black boy.”
Of course I call him Noah.
Of course I introduce him to his Jamaican/Haitian heritage on my side.
But when my father and I are talking we refer to ourselves as black. And he might overhear us and, knowing he comes from us, ask about that self-identification.
Also, I do think the term “white” is equally lazy. And there has been a lot written about “white people” in America searching for identity themselves after losing touch with their European roots.
I don’t think “gay” or “woman” are lazy terms because they are ACCURATE. All I’m saying is black (and, by contrast, white) are not quite accurate.
I grew up in Brooklyn, NY. Because of the transit system we have a lot of freedom at a young age. Most city kids go through a Greenwich Village stage. “Woman” and “gay” are social constructs. Lets not forget for a moment that the word “gay” 70 years ago used to only mean happy. Homosexuals adopted gay to mean what it means to us today. There are women who deny the word woman because they don’t want to be thought of as “man with a womb”. My goodness!
What do you call a someone born a woman, but through the wonders of modern medicine now has a penis and someone’s wife (transgender, transexual)? Are they a gay or straight couple? Is the wife a woman? Is an operated man a real man? What do you call a man who is year 1 transexual, with breasts AND a penis?
I have no idea what to call us either, but when people say black I understand what they mean. Maybe at some point we can be something simple like American but I feel that would be trying to forget the Black Experience in a way that is too excessive for my taste.
Obviously, I want to remember to atrocity of slavery and all of the history because to me totally forgetting would be denying my ancestors. But I can’t go there every day with the image of whippings and babies cut out of living women because they wanted to see if we were black before we were born.
I don’t want to forget the pain, but I also don’t want to be identified only by it. Black people have so much more going for us than that. We have our resilience, strength and things that we have accomplished against ALL odds.
Those things are black too. I guess I just prefer to focus on that.
Just because I say the terms “gay” or “woman” are accurate, it doesn’t mean that I believe that gender and sexuality are binary. I don’t. To call someone gay — which is popularly understood as a homosexual man or woman, is NOT to deny the transgender experience. To call someone a woman, is NOT to deny the third gender.
*Meanwhile* to call someone black, when used pejoratively, IS to deny the complexity of their history and the specificity of their origin. I hope you see what I’m trying to say.
I mentioned multiple times that the word black has been reclaimed. I don’t know how many more times I can say that.
For me to ask these questions or address this history is not to be tormented by the realities of slavery every day. I am a 21st century black woman who leads a happy, healthy life. But I actually believe that blacks don’t reflect on their/our history enough.
I have white and Asian friends who can trace their family histories for generations going back hundreds of years. It hurts me that, as a black woman, I cannot do that. And, in slavery times, deliberate steps were taken to PREVENT black Americans from being able to do that. We were stripped of language, history and identity for a REASON. Slave masters KNEW how powerful and important those things were/are.
I am happy for Civil Rights. I’m happy for the current ways in which black men and women are reclaiming the terminology and defining themselves. I think African American culture is fascinating because it’s so NEW. The first Africans arrived in America in the 1500s. So we are one of the newest, and most powerful (in terms of influence and buying power)/controversial cultural groups in the world.
But, a part of me does mourn the loss of my history. And I think that’s okay. Not everyone has to agree with me. I’m not seeking consensus here. I’m just sharing my thoughts and experience.
Sorry! I’ve been known to have selective hearing.
I’ve also been Black American going on 40 years, so I’ve had my time of mourning about the loss of language and culture, closer to 20 years ago. I take it this is newer for you.
Maybe I only pay attention to Black when it’s something that I identify with… something that is not pejorative. When the conversation is the black that comes from my mother and my mentors. Negative descriptions and connotations of black do not pertain to me so if I hear them at all I cease to give them my energy. The pejorative black dies a sad and lonely death only to be tossed off of my shoulder.
Maybe the experience of being stripped of it all is what makes us so amazing and admired. Perseverance.
Shamefully enough, not so deep down I have lots of admiration for the average UCLA street hustler. Sparks would fly if I had any inkling of my son being involved in street hustling. Not because I look down on hustling, but because of the opportunities that my son will have available to him. The average hustler would trade places in a heartbeat and thrive. My people, are persevering and surviving with whatever they have available to them despite their situation.
Sometimes in life your deepest sadness and shame is your greatest triumph. Maybe if we didn’t have the unthinkable hardship, and stripped down to nothing, we wouldn’t be so amazing. Often you can’t have both. You earn one at the cost of the other.
I’m only half shamed that I live so well and I can’t share the goodness with my ancestors who worked so hard so that I would have the opportunity to be all and who I am.
Shaniqua, no worries. I actually like your pushback because it forced me to think a bit deeper about my position and re-examine some things.
I think, too, that you have a headstart on me in terms of coming to peace with this. And, in that sense, your reflection is very valid and important. To hear from people who struggled with this and came to a peace is important for me. I’m definitely still in the ‘angst’ years, lol. But coming to resolution.
All in all, and at the end of the day, I love the culture of black people in America. It might not be properly named, but the experience is potent. The language and culture of African Americans — whether here from slavery or recently migrated, is worth documenting.
That’s why I wanted to start this blog, and why I keep progressing with it though I get quite a bit of pushback. The experience of black mothers in America is valuable and worth documenting and building community around.
I appreciate you Shaniqua
At the very least, the whole story of the black experience is something I will dish out one bite at a time over the course of his life. Most of the ugly stuff is PG-13 to XXX – definitely stuff adults should be mulling over, not little children.
We have more than enough time in his youth to explore achievements and build the foundation that will be able to handle the whole truth – in time. I think it is a mistake to go into the ugly without having a good enough foundation. That is when psyches break apart. Some black people on the edge never recover from that, and they are lost to us.
The “I’m Brown” response was elementary level stuff to get those Pre-K little brains thinking about how abstract and imprecise race and color definitions are anyway.
That is something I hadn’t considered and I think you’re absolutely right. My mother-in-law and my mom have both bought books about slavery for Noah. They are both well-intentioned, but I think I need to boost him up with pro-black pride first — focusing on all our victories/accomplishments/achievements — and reserve the difficult stuff for later years.
The good news is that he’s growing up in a happy household. My husband and I are committed to each other and responsible. We are involved in our community and politically progressive. We’re educated and have been blessed to be financially comfortable. At the end of the day, my son’s first experience with black people — me and my husband — is a happy, safe and secure one. I think that goes a loooong way.
What bothers me about my experience with some folks from the Carribbean is that their self-identification as Jamaicans, Haitians, Trinidadians is that there is a subtextual hint of disdain for other blacks in the diaspora, i.e African Americans. Point blank, black folks in the States have done remarkable, earth shattering things, but continue to be the recipients of the worse p.r. known to man. I think the poster is wise in evaluating the misnomers attributed to folks of African descent. Black people, for instance, are not global minorities- white people are. (I shared this fact with the principal of my son’s school once and she looked like I had stabbed her.) I think the word black could stand further reclamation. As an ideal to which we endeavor to strive. Maybe we are brown, but imagine how really stunning we would be if we were completely, totally black. The universe is black, the cosmos, black holes are creative and powerful entities. Spiritual people such as priests and magic makers don black. Oil, the earth’s lifeblood, is black. What’s so wrong with the word “black”. Inaccurate, but all metaphor is. Black is not the scientific reality of our skin color but our metaphor for and poetic description of our limitless power.
I vehemently agree with Angela about the subtextual distain from other blacks in the diaspora from modern Caribbean people. In kindergarden art class you learn, white is the absence of color, black is every color. I suppose anyone could choose to cast themselves out of black. IMO what a pity for them.
Black pride, Black power!
Sorry Caribbean, and other blacks in the diaspora.
The subtextual disdain you feel is a result of a deep lack of self-confidence in many Black-Americans. Many black-americans understand and live with the reality that “black” is looked down upon. So when you see people that look like you separate themselves from the word “black,” you automatically think they hate themselves or hate you. That isn’t to say there aren’t prejudice Caribbeans and Africans. But there are just as many prejudice Black Americans. It’s just not fair or accurate to say Black Americans don’t discriminate in the reverse. This is all a part of the White man’s plan. Divide and conquer. They are still winning because we have no sense of community.
What you should try to understand is that for a non-Black American…Black is not an identity that they can relate to because it was never a term used where they came from. It’s not always an insult. They are used to claiming the nation where they came from because there is no need to say Black-Ghanian for example.
The typical Black-American cry that the KKK and all white people will still see us as “just black” is does not scare me. I’m sorry that I don’t share the deep-seated fear. I get that the history is deep and that racism exists by why would you be happy to define yourself by someone else’s words? Especially an oppressor. We are not victims. Stand up. You are who you say you are. If you like being “black” cool. But don’t assume that non-Black Americans hate their African roots because they don’t identify with the term Black.
That’s an *excellent* point you make about low self esteem of black Americans. It’s totally true. It’s a downer. There is not much you can do or say to someone when their spirit is crushed. Its up to us to take responsibility for our emotions… Face our fears. I think too many Black Americans are stuck in that history. If you can’t move past that hate and pain you have no hope for success in America. Anger and resentment begets anger and resentment. That is one thing Carib and Africans have going for them. They don’t have to deal with their own worst enemy. I’m sure there is a lot of envy in the Black American community for someone who has natural easy going self-pride. For years many of us have had to “fake it until we made it” about the pride. Glad to say I have arrived
It’s all in the way you carry yourself and talk with others – black and white. It’s the lightheartedness of coming from a beautiful place with mostly kind faces.
In a way some Black Americans are saying “who are you to have so much self possession and pride. You are black, why are you so happy?
MLK assassination broke hearts and killed dreams. No excuse for it really, but that’s the way it is.
Another excellent point you make about racism that black americans show towards those of Caribbean and African descent. I witnessed specifically recently arrived Haitian & Puerto Rican immigrant children being teased mercilessly on the school bus when I was 4 or 5. I was too young to understand and it seemed wrong, but I’m not going to lie I probably joined in. It was rough. Do or get beat up every day myself. Even though my dad was a Panamanian “monkey from the banana boat” I didn’t even know. I guess that is part of why my father’s immigrant identity was shed ASAP. That is just how stupid and easy it is to discriminate and how arbitrary it all is. You don’t even know why you are doing it, and then you’ve just done it forever. Stupid habits…
As far as the racism, it’s just easier for someone who’s come after the Civil Rights movement to self identify or even want to admit that they are not native.
Before Martin Luther King Caribbean and African people were only allowed to rent and own homes where black people lived… even in NYC. The main benefit between the north & south in 1950′s were the job opportunities in factories. There was still discrimination but there was a marked decreased likelihood that if you didn’t speak and act *just* right as a black woman you would be raped and left for dead behind some tree and as a man you’d likely be hanging from said tree. Slavery was one thing, but my grandmother grew up in that, so all of this was not that long ago. My mother worked cleaning houses in the south when she was 12 years old with her grandmother in the summers. She was very OCD until 3 or 4 years ago because leaving a spot could mean some jackass would not pay you for your work, and there was nothing she could do or say, without threat of being raped or killed.
Many blacks fled the south with only the clothes on their back because they offended some white person and were about to get lynched. So they were outcast from all friends and family…
She told me stories of how white children needed to be addressed as Mr and Miss, and they called her mother “negra gal”, any transgression was meted with severe punishment. You were not allowed to look them in the eye. Had to keep your eyes down. Totally demeaning & demoralizing. It affected self worth. Hence many Black Americans are very uncomfortable & don’t know how to be casual and comfortable around white people or even alone in their rooms.
Also, the minute they were not going to be killed for insisting on being called by their name, some black people went a bit overboard….
I think it hurts Black Americans that Carribean and African immigrants come here and take advantage of opportunities that were fought for by blacks for blacks, and then don’t want to be considered black!!!
Affirmative Action in schools and in the work did not exist before the 1960 &70s. Laws that we fought and died for laid the framework for “People who are Black” to be hired in this country, Carribeans take advantage of these opportunities but at the end of the day say they are not black. It’s kinda a slap in the face.
Granted, many Black Americans were and still are too afraid (having not gotten over the death and fear of MLK and other things ) to take advantage of these opportunities.
I’m the first to admit that Black Americans being too afraid and discouraged to take advantage of these opportunities is not the fault of the black immigrants that came. Immigrants are just doing their thing. But often black immigrants wouldn’t be able to do their thing because many times you were hired “because you were black”, even if you don’t consider yourselves such.
Now they say Affirmative Action is not really needed… there are so many Black people in high places in the work force, lot of times they are not the downtrodden black Americans that the law was intended for… again not your problem.
I personally think all Black Americans would be better off if they spent a little time in a country where they are not the resident “nigger”. Even if only for a few months… it changes you forever.
Baby and Blogs mom did the right thing not raising her daughter here esp back then. It really makes all the difference in the world.
As for the word, I’m not a poet. If someone came up with something that resonated with me, maybe I’d redefine. It would have to be a made up word that sounded beautiful but was short and easy to pronounce but under no circumstances would I deny black. I’d just say I prefer “this other beautiful word”.
Many great points made here. I’ve thought about that before, it’s what comes to mind when black-americans say, but you’re just black. It’s like they are subconsciously insulting themselves. They are saying “you’re not special” because you have to be mixed with something to be special and feel good about yourself.
I like what you had to say about the word black at the end. You gave me a new perspective. I agree that travel would beneficial! I’m all for self-love and acceptance.
~ Peace and love.
Much peace and love for you too! Calling all poets and linguists!
For too many Black Americans you aren’t special unless you are mixed with something, and that is a shame. The closer you are to white the better… I actually used to believe this when I was a child!! This is despite *all* the work my mother did to uplift me other wise. I can’t imagine the mind state of someone without even that!
I’m sure you’ve heard this before but lighter skin black people in this country have always had a certain level of privilege. They were literally worth more in slavery times, so there goes the self worth and even the incentive to rape even more. They were allowed to have easier labor jobs like driver and servant instead of working in the field. It’s sooo complicated! That and many very pale “blacks” who could pass for white moved away, married white and became “white”. They may or may not be racist because they know who they were, but that doesn’t mean their children knew. Maybe they were the ones that cast the biggest stones so as to not have stones thrown at them!
I’m sure many a mother fantasized about having a child light enough to pass for white and run away. Wishing yourself white so that you can escape the hell of their reality seems like something I would have totally engaged in if I lived in that time. I fantasized about being lighter and my life wasn’t even all that bad!
I honestly believe that a good portion of the KKK and the most racist of white people in the south today are probably 5-20% or so black! Did you hear about this guy: http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2013/11/21/white-supremacist-dna-test-neo-nazi-north-dakota-town/3661791/
Fascinating!
Racism is far from dead, but it’s SO much easier being Black or Brown in 2014 now than it has ever been in the history of this country. So many American Black people have not gotten the memo. The free education system did us well enough when there were factory jobs. The education provided us is not preparing us to be the next generation of workers, but immigrants come here and don’t do half bad.
You also need a spark in your heart to do and succeed that in so many of us has been squashed that immigrants have. That really spark makes all the difference in the world.
I disagree that the disdain I feel comes from black American underconfidence. On the contrary, I feel that black Americans have done a lot of the work in the collective self analysis around colonialism and the process of self love. Africa, South America and the West Indies have all been colonized by Europeans. Black America has produced some of the most profound thinkers on the subject of black mental liberation. There is shadism and colorism in every place where Africans have been enslaved and colonized- whether that enslavement and colonization took place one hundred years ago or yesterday. But what I sense has nothing to do with a lack of self confidence that black Americans have as opposed to anyone else. I have met black people from Jamaica who have made it a point to differentiate themselves from those “other” Jamaicans- the black ones. And it’s true, there are misguided black folks who do that here. But we have Malcolm X lingering in our collective awareness, we have James Brown, we have Toni Morrison, we have so many artists who actively challenge the racial hierarchies and posit black beauty as the pinnacle of our consciousness. Marcus Garvey and Aime Cesaire are Caribbean, and Frantz Fanon, is African so I don’t mean to imply that other blacks around the globe have not moved us along towards freedom and self liberation. (Cesar is famous for saying “a tiger does not proclaim its tigritude” on the subject of black identity. Something to think about.) However, I do kind of love the overt way black Americans often challenge the status quo. You are correct in saying that divide and conquer is the rule. However, I remember trying to start a black theatre company and having the one Caribbean member insist that we call it a black and Caribbean theatre company, which I found exhausting. If you are Caribbean, start a Caribbean theatre company! Stop wasting everyone’s time with these picayune distinctions when we have a planet to unite. The point was that it was a company for Africans, African Americans, African Canadians, South Americans and anyone else who identified with an African, “negroid” heritage. Why go there? Why waste poster space and mental energy carrying on this divide and conquer by pointing to every distinction among us?
But you say tomato and I say tamata. That could be a long endless argument about who is prejudiced against whom. However, my point still stands, the word black is still a beautiful thing. And as far as self definition, the fact is- the language in which we speak is not “our language.” It’s English. Black, brown, colored, African- those are still words that fall within the range of the English language. And within that context each of those words carry a connotation and vibration with a long history rooted in the white European psyche. If one is going to aim for a true sense of self definition, let’s discard, at least in this context, the European language with its long, deep seeded, complicated loathing of all things dark. If not, using the term “brown” still feels like an acquiescence to the European horror and intimidation of all things dark. It feels like, on an intuitive level, playing the game. Shying away from what Europeans fear. Playing into their language and definitions rather than refashioning it for ourselves. Brown feels pallid and wimpy. I still like the idea that insult, when hurled in my direction, transforms into a crown.
I should say that I do think the term “black” can be/has been reclaimed. To me, at this point, it signifies a group people who have a shared history and experience in America — either coming here as slaves or migrating here from the Caribbean/Africa/South America. I do think black people in America have done an incredible job of coalescing and creating a new shared culture and history. As I mentioned, my fellowship with African American students in college was very healing for me. But I can’t ignore the history. It troubles me.
Totally agreed
I also want to point out that, for me, there are two layers to the issue:
1. The term ‘black’ is anatomically incorrect, and grouping people by the color of their skin is lazy. If you’re gonna go by skin color, you have to consider that there are Africans, south Asians, Indians and even some-darker skinned Europeans who are exactly the same color.
2. I personally find ethnic identity to be more significant, telling and appropriate. The term African American is okay to me I guess but, because of slavery, we lost out on the opportunity to understand how the various African ethnic sub-groups we originated from are unique and significant.
I don’t have any kids yet, but I am aware of how hurtful the all encompassing term “black” can be. I hear stories of my older half brother coming to Canada as a young child (from Ethiopia) who would argue adamantly that he was not in fact black but white, just like the other kids in his predominantly white school. (By pointing out to his palms!) I go to a very culturally diverse high school in Canada, where the majority of us are the children of immigrants mainly from Portugal, Italy, Philippines, Nigeria, Ghana, Jamaica, St. Vincent or Guyana. However, as soon as one is not identified as Caribbean, it often goes straight to the label of ‘African’ or simply the ‘black kids’.
I have to ask, what in the world is so hurtful about being called “black”?
Are you really saying that if you are brown and unless you have an exotic foreign country of origin you are “simply the ‘black kids”… and that is a bad thing?
No, not at all. I am not ashamed of being considered black, I am merely annoyed that my and majority of my friend’s origins are simply pushed under the rug as being black or even worse “african.” I realize that it is different in the states ( I am Canadian), but I never hear of white people being referred to as “European” but their nationalities instead (or a “real Canadian”).
Maybe black means something else in Canada that I’m not understanding. Why is black being pushed under the rug? What is worse about being African?
For comparison, haven’t you ever seen someone Asian and had no idea what kind of Asian to call them? Or seen a Morrocan and mistook them for Indian (from India). Many Koreans look Japanese, and not only because we are uncultured and have no eye for identifying them. They had rape and genocide and war over there too. Who’s to know what to call them? Asian is a social construct.
Do we get miffed when someone without a clue takes a chance by taking a guess and gets it wrong? Doesn’t a simple correction suffice?
You’re right that a simple correction would suffice. However the term “African” seems to pull on my nerves because it is such a generalization of a vast continent with so many cultures, languages and people. I’ve very rarely heard someone being asked if they are Asian, or speak Asian. I guess it is because there really isn’t much of an equivalent to so called “African-Americans” as most Black Canadians’ families have been here for not more than a generation or two.
Let me explain; I am proud of being Black, African, Ethiopian & Canadian, and I am not ashamed of being labeled as Black by another. However, when others (especially non-minorities) group all of us of a similar colour of having the same backgrounds and cultural experiences I get a little bothered.
And for why I think “Black” is too generalizing, you’re forcing me to reexamine my views!
The thread wouldn’t let me reply up there, but that our children are growing up happy & healthy, with committed parents and community involvement is key. It was that kind of environment that for the most part paved the path to the Civil Rights Movement.
This is the craziest thing in the world to say, but before integration, we taught our own children. If not parent to child the black teachers who taught the next generation understood the cause. We cared. We knew the value and the cost if not being educated. Now we leave that responsibility in the hands of those who are perfectly fine to turn out half illiterate factory workers, and our children (and our movement) has suffered too many casualties.
Notice that since the 60′s, the “powers” moved to attack the black family and community structure and it’s bedrock… the church. That and fear is what pushed most of the louder Black pride stuff to the back burner. But it did not die. It’s just laying low for just the right time. Not all the work can be done in 1 or two generations. It’s a long term thing.
I understand the need to educate our children about our past, but my son will not get explicit slavery
Sorry… Explicit slavery books until I feel he is mentally and emotionally capable of handling the gravity of it. To me character and community building comes before history esp with very young children. He has enough time in the future to learn and be horrified.
There are black inventors, ballerinas, businessmen and women, and fiction spy books for children. Can’t he read that stuff until he’s 12 or so? Isn’t that the age when children begin to reason? Start him off with some freedom fighters around then. When he asks freedom from what, I can go into what it was like for black people before the freedom fighters won. Before that I think it would be too scary.
By then, he will have enough friends of all ethnicities to know that his particular friends had nothing to do with that. That that was HISTORY. Often people who are racist (black on white, white on black, or black on black) sometimes are living out a script of history that does not pertain to them anymore. This is what you get when you train little children to hate or distrust before they reach the age of discernment. Sometime the training is as innocent as giving them information that they are too young to handle.
If I can find some dumbed down Mickey Mouse versions of slavery for children, then maybe, but right now it is all about the censorship. I also don’t allow him to imitate other children playing with guns, or laugh at play shooting. I don’t allow him to play video games. Starfall is the closest we have come, but I had a niece over teaching him to play some Iphone game where characters die. I don’t like that either. I’m sensitive about gun violence and I say that’s not funny. A gun could hurt someone. It’s the only time I mention death.
Even though I now live in “the burbs”, I’m from a place where gun violence is real. There were trails of blood leading up & down the stair of my apt building so much that it didn’t even phase me. Now looking back, that is crazy!! I mentioned a huge pool of blood in our hall to my mom and as school was out I was on a plane to Florida. In September I came back to a new house in Staten Island – a train and boat ride away from Brooklyn. Only by luck of bad planning with the moving company did I even get to say goodbye to my friends. I was upset with my mom at the time, but now as a mother this is completely reasonable to me.
Even with Starfall I point out to my son the kids eating jelly beans and gumballs and how bad it is for your teeth. It bugs me that it’s always brown children eating junk food on there, but I don’t mention the brown part to him. Most of me is glad that they are so many brown children there at all. You can’t have everything.
200 years ago our people suffered atrocities while our children watched. I’m sure my ancestors would have given anything to censor that from their children for as long as possible. My 3 year old son does not need that part of black history right now in his life.
“That that was HISTORY. Often people who are racist (black on white, white on black, or black on black) sometimes are living out a script of history that does not pertain to them anymore. This is what you get when you train little children to hate or distrust before they reach the age of discernment.”i
Hmmm… I do agree, but the reality is that there are modern ‘scripts’ of racism that children pick up from what they see modeled in society. I live in Chicago, the most segregated big city in America”, and the racial scripts here are TOXIC. It is VERY CLEAR that black neighborhoods have worse schools, more violence and a lot of housing discrimination. It is also VERY CLEAR that white folks go out of their way to create enclaves in this city that allow them to never have to cross paths with a black person ever.
That’s not history. That’s 2014.
My husband and I were living in an upper class mainly white neighborhood where we constantly got stares (not glares or anything, just confused stares) for living there. We decided to move to a hood adjacent neighborhood that is pretty diverse — there are a lot of Mexican Americans, Black Americans, whites and Asians on our block. But it took us 6 MONTHS to find a diverse area on the side of the city we wanted to live on… 6. MONTHS.
Institutional racism is complex, it can be subtle. But it’s very real. And children aren’t as naive/clueless as we think. Like my reaction when I heard the word “minority” and felt the pejorative undertone in it.
All this to say, now is not the time to teach my son about slavery. He is 19 months old. I feel the same way about religion. I am deliberately keeping my son away from church (which I no longer attend) and reserving spiritual conversations for when he begins to ask and I can give him intelligent answers. I feel the same way about race. But I do want him to understand WHY America looks like it does today. You can’t talk about the black experience in America without providing slavery as a context. Because the effects are still being felt. Blacks were an underclass then. Unfortunately they are an underclass now. I, personally, have managed to do well socioeconomically. And I think it’s important for my son to fellowship with other African Americans who have risen above the matrix (lol!) and are doing well. But when he drives through a ghetto, I’m not going to tell him, “Oh, all those people are just lazy.” Yes, I do think African Americans are partially responsible for where we’ve ended up as a community. But I think that the poor quality of schools, and unjust school funding, and predatory financial services, and zero mental health services and media that erases their experience, are also responsible — and those legacies come out of slavery.
My goodness!! You don’t know how thankful I am to hear you say that:
“Oh, all those people are just lazy.” Yes, I do think African Americans are partially responsible for where we’ve ended up as a community…
It frustrates me when I hear people say that.
While I no longer live in the ghetto I know from experience that it is more of a situation of casualties of a class war than any particular thing anyone did to deserve their predicament or out of laziness.
Racism is very real. The history of what happened to black people in America totally affects the community today. I didn’t mean to imply that it wasn’t. I meant that the history aspect of teaching my son about our history should happen when we get to the history portion of educating him.
The racism part of it will happen sooner than that. Actually it started a while ago.
I live in one of those white enclaves in No Cal. This is why I’m SO thankful for this blog!!! 6 months is wild, but at least you found a place.
There are almost no black people here except for Oakland and that is almost a 2 hour drive away. I’d move back to NYC in a heartbeat but my husband’s best job opportunities are out here… also, now I’m spoiled by the quality of air and food & the weather.
The racism that we experience now is… frustrating. In CA people are very passive aggressive. No one ever debates or speaks their mind. People stare and don’t speak – even when my son says hi. I’ve had to tell him the park (in a low kind voice) that those children must not know how to say hi yet, or that their parents have not taught them basic manners…. I suggest (right there) that it’s possible that the children have no manners because their parents also lack basic manners. I explain how that child’s opportunities for friendship will be limited in life and how people who do invite them over won’t invite them back… Everyone loves a polite person.
When he was 18 months old or so we were at a playdate. He followed a 4 year old girl around trying to say hi and she went out of her way to turn up her nose and give him her back!!! She did this 3 or 4 times when I had to stop this. My son is pretty sharp so I pulled him off to the side looked him in the eyes and told him, “Oh honey, it looks like she doesn’t want to say hi to you. That’s OK, some people are not worth saying hi to. We can play with another friend or go home”.
He played by himself for a while and we went home. I quit that mother’s group. We’ve gone to other more friendly/neutral parks when the tension was too much. I took over the local chapter of Holistic Moms group and I’ve collected a fine group of friends who have similar parenting style and their children who we change tips on how to grow them to be polite and well rounded.
I just came from a birthday party yesterday of a friend’s son. She is a white woman married to a darkish Phillipino and I got to hand it to her, she went out of her way to buy bear favors of 3 or 4 different colors of brown. Even though my white friends are progressive, none of the children wanted the darkest bear. None of the parents challenged it either… but I could see it was bothering her to keep putting the darkest bear back. I was slightly annoyed until I noticed no one wanted the lightest bear either…
Maybe the kids just wanted a bear that looked like them or was the color of the teddy bear they already had.
There are tons of Mexicans where we live, so I’m going out of my way to integrate ourselves with that community for now. I speak fluent Spanish, but my husband does not so I found a native Spanish speaker to care for my son when he was a baby and I had errands. We chat. Now she is doubling as a tutor and guide into that community.
I even found a church denomination 40 min away that isn’t a black church but is based off of Christian and Jewish traditions. It is inclusive of Buddhist, Agnostic, Athiest you name it, you are welcome. The minister is a woman, who wears a rainbow collar and the church is very politically active.
I’m thinking strongly of moving closer to that community and the feeling in my heart is more pronounced every month that goes by. We couldn’t afford to live there when we bought our first house. Weather, housing cost and commute was the main reason we moved here.
In that city there is culture. There are black people, CHEAP bilingual schools, museums – I’m considering enrolling him in a Chinese as a Second Language school up there. I might be able to work in the community some how if we lived closer. I have a lot to offer.
For black people exposure I don’t know what to do. I guess it’s just all me. Maybe it will just be limited to my family when we go east to visit and getting them to come here as they can…
“Yes, I do think African Americans are partially responsible for where we’ve ended up as a community.”
I want to inquire more about what you mean by “partially”. How so? End up in what way I just want to discuss further how you feel about this because I think it is an interesting topic. Thanks much!
I prefer the term “Black” (capital B) over the generic “African-American”. Perhaps because I am product of the political climate of the 60′s. To me African-American is just as meaningless and inaccurate as calling someone Native American. Colonialism stripped away ppl’s identity and modern colonialism seeks to appease the masses by throwing some kind of ethnic blanket over them. Black is a term that was fought for and one that those in the trenches demanded out of respect. Black may not be accurate in terms of actual skin color, but, imo, it resounds deeper than African-American. But it will never truly take the place of authentic tribal affiliation which might be lost to many of us forever.
I totally agree with you about Black vs African American. I wrote a long reply about that higher up, but I didn’t mention that it was fought for.
I do not have children. However, I prefer the term Black and perhaps will not mind if any children I have consider themselves/call themselves Black. I am West Indian and I bristle every time someone tries to call me African American. While I may share their future (African Americans’) by living in America, I do not share their past and several of them have put a very fine point on that.
Someone made an excellent point about media consumption. I think if conscious people make it a point to reduce their consumption of mainstream media that misrepresents people of all races and backgrounds then the media will have to change. Speaking out is good, but people don’t typically try to change until it affects their bottom line, i.e. their income. In addition, we will have preserved our own sanity and refrained from wasting our time.
We do share their past. Marcus Garvey, Harry Belafonte and Sidney Poiter just to name a few. Rap has Jamaican roots. They love to leave us out of history but are real quick to say “we are all Black” or “we were all dropped off at different places during slavery.” No need to kiss up to them DB.
To Black-Americans, it’s either we shared the history or we didn’t. If we didn’t then explain to me how or why you get angry when we say we don’t identify with “black.” You yourselves don’t even see us as a part of yourselves. Hypocrisy on both ends, mine too.
As a teenager living in America, I prefer the term black. I’m a mixed baby–my family includes Indian, Cherokee, Welsh, and Nigerian peoples. However, black is the best way to define myself.
My mother always taught me that because of our descendants, we were mixed people. When I learned color theory, I learned that all colors are needed to make a whole, organic black.
I’m not trying to describe races as colors. Just making an analogy. My definition of black (in terms of race) is a combination of many ethnicities, because that is how I was raised.
Perhaps, due to upbringing and experiences, you have a different definition of the word black. But this is mine.
Personally? The word black is what you make it. You can choose to remember it as something ugly and derogatory, or you can use it to mean something beautiful, or you can use it to just mean YOU.
Identity isn’t wholly dependent on race. If I had a son growing up with good morals and great personality traits, I wouldn’t be worried about the word black. But if he was unsettled, I’d let him come to me with his questions and concerns about it.
I’d tell him the same thing I previously said.
You’re all getting way too hung up on a word that describes one race as accurately as white does, all without proposing an alternative or solution. If you must obsess, why not obsess over actual problems, like the socioeconomic hurdles “minorities” face or, better still, encourage readers to act–contribute to solving those problems in a tangible way?
Because we have a ton of posts like that on this site. There are posts about navigating public school education, homeschooling, urban gardening/farming, media that affirms black children, post highlighting the achievement of black children in arts and education, posts on money management, green eating. I get what you’re saying. But please understand the holistic nature of this website. Thanks!
You should do what is right for your household. The world gives directions or you will make your own. Some people are fine with defining themselves as black, as I do. If you prefer to say brown then use that. Let’s not get stuck. This is a great conversation but you/we have to push through so you can get to the next layer. Artist, teacher, firefighter, computer magnate. Your child is too valuable to get stuck.
Our people was given the label”Black” for a reason, which means Death!
When a person know their history, they will not be confused by society.
Check out the history of the Moors!
I lived in Spain for 2 years and Spanish people will acknowledge that the Moors and Islam got them out of the dark ages… that it was the most peaceful time in Spanish history. (HOW IRONIC!! Goes to show every culture has their heyday) They brought irrigation technology and for the most part this helped end the plagues, since they also built sewer systems. Everyone was allowed to practice their religion – except non-muslims had to pay an extra tax. Every major Catholic church in Spain was originally a mosque but they were so beautiful and well crafted in stead of tearing them down they converted them to Catholic churches.
I’m not sure what history you are referring to but the Moors are awe inspiring!
I agree with Pebbles! I use Black (big B) to denote a culture, not just the race. Although we are genetically African, most African Americans have few ties to the cultures and identities that we were stripped of. Black American culture is unlike any other cultural group in this country and should be recognized.
The word Black has never really bothered me. African American bothers me more since I’m not African I’m Haitian. The word “black” is strange because sometimes it only refers to African Americans and sometimes it refers to someone with African origins. So that word kind of includes and excludes at the same time. One good example is black history month which is only about african american history. I never really related to black history month because of the whole Haitian thing. What bothers me is when black is used to label a biracial person. My daughter’s dad is white and it bothers me whenever someone refers to her as black.
I’m black. My husband is white. Our son is black.
It’s not like we won’t teach him of his Latvian culture… His grandparents send him Happy St. Patricks T-shirts and I put them on him. He goes to black churches when we are around them. He is also culturally of Latvian, Irish, English, Panamanian, American Black and Bajan descent but I’ve never listed those things out in his life before today. His experience will be of a Black American boy, because that is what he is.
I speak more Spanish than my father – who is technically Panamanian. Both of my grandparents are from Panama but my dad grew up here.
Ask my dad if he’s Panamanian and he says no, he’s black. He knows nothing of Panama except what he learned from his mother. Ask my Panamanian aunt if she was black she’d say yes… even though she didn’t speak English until she was 15. If she broke out the Spanish, she’d tell of how she was born in Panama.
My maternal grandmother is several shades lighter than my “biracial” son. She considers herself “black”.
Ask paternal grandmother who immigrated here in 1958 if she was “Panamanian” she would say “I am an American”. If you asked her if she was black, she would look at you like you like you were crazy, mostly because it was obvious to the eye that she was.
The whole clinging on to the country of origin once folks have immigrated here is the luxury of all immigrants who came here AFTER the Civil Rights Movement… which was led by a self proclaimed Negro/black man.
Before MLK, Polish, Irish, Bajan, Jamaican people were all trying to be American. Trying to get rid of accents, ethnic clothing and blend in. That was when America was the “Melting Pot”… now it’s the “Salad Bowl” with no immigrants really wanting to be American anymore.
Before integration Carribean and African blacks had no choice but to live where “black” people were allowed to live and own homes. So back then Carribean and African immigrants knew they were black. The debate now about how they can choose whether they are black or not is a post MLK luxury.
I’d bet money if asked today Martin Luther King would refer to himself as black.
I am Black or African-American and proud of it. I see nothing pejorative about the term; it’s descriptive of who we are. Since Negro is no longer the accepted term, Black it is for me! People assume I’m mixed (I am not) and are surprised when I don’t claim some racial mixture. The race and culture I claim is African American/Black because my parents are Black and that’s been my singular cultural experience. My parents raised me to love my culture and people–not to exclusion of other cultures, but certainly held mine equally high as theirs. I can care less how another race see’s me; they don’t define me: I do. Not that this matters, but I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of any other race so fixated on denying who or what they are.
Hello
My name is Josiane, and I live in Burkina Faso (in west africa). I’m mixed at the third degree, because my grand father is French (white). My mother and my father meat one another in Paris, and they choose to come back in africa. I was born here in Burkina Faso, and made all my studies in France, but choose to also come back here in Burkina Faso, because I find the life easier and better.
Here in Africa, we use the word “white”, as you, in América, are said “black”. Even if the white people ae not really white (maybe a coulour between yellow and white). I don’t really see why you should telle to your son that he’s brown and not black. It’s not a question of colour. Does a white ever say that he doesn’t want to be called a white? Where the problem? Yes, black people have suffered a lot with slavery, racism… But what? We are human like others, and it’s not because they call us black (like we call them white), that they are better than us!!
I’ve get married with a senegalese, and my daughter is really dark. I’m mixed, my husband is really black, and my daughter is brown.
But do you know what? I’m feeling black; I’m black and so proud to be black, even if i’m lighter in my country. When i was young, children were running behind us (when we were with my mother), and screaming “nassara”, which mean here white people. When i was studying in Paris, an old women told me in the metro “you black people, go back in your countries”.
But, my opinion is that black american are not proud of their origin or colour. You know, I’ve travelled a lot, all over the world, but the most beautiful countries are in africa. People are so “true here”, even poor. Life is so beautiful here, so simple…
I’m mixed, but I’m really black, and i’ll tell to my daughter that she is also black, and that she should be proud to be black!!! Today, Africa is the country where there is poverty, wars…. but maybe tomorrow, it will be annother thing.
Some of us are proud, though its a tough thing to acknowledge and be proud of. But if we don’t love ourselves who will?
A mixed child is a mixed child and should be thought to see him/herself as such.
Telling a child who is clearly 50% black and 50% white to consider him/herself black is just sad because 50% of his/her DNA is white and you cannot tell a child to completely ignore that.
A biracial child should be identified as Biracial with capital B and nothing else. As for people who are a cocktail of races that is a whole new topic that I am not ready to get into now.
If you want to get technical 98% of all black Americans are “mixed”. We just don’t all have “good” hair and pale skin. My husband is 100% white. I have no idea what percentage black I am. So when are you mixed? Is there a right percentage number? If one parent is white and the other black you came out looking like Morris Chestnut, are you still “mixed”? If my son came out looking exactly like my husband, then he would experience America as a white man, even though I’d always consider him black because he is my son.
It happens but rarely do you see a Black American as dark as Alex Wek. Black American people would say my son is “mixed” but acknowledge that he’s also black. 100% White Americans generally say he’s black… In Panama, my son would be white.
When he’s older he can choose what ever he wants to call himself, but my son will experience America as a black boy & for now since he’s 3 I choose. He’s black.
Thanks for posting so honestly about this topic. Struggling with ones Black identity is something I know well as I have a fair complexion which has it’s own sordid history in the Black community. Personally, I’ve always seen Black as a strong word and something to feel really proud of. I belong to a community of people who fought very hard (and continue to fight) for respect on our terms. The truth is for many Black Americans the affiliations to tribes is lost to us. I very much feel like an American, not African, which is why the Black experience can be so painful in this country. This is all we have; we don’t have a homeland of just us to go back to where we share the same language and culture. I can understand for you, as a Jamaican, this may not resonate the same with you.
Black Americans built this country and have contributed beyond measure in terms of advancement of everything (technology, science, politics, the list goes on) yet we aren’t embraced and there’s a constant fight against us claiming ownership. We aren’t just a Black voice we are the American voice and I feel compelled to fight to make other Americans understand that.
I’m more than happy to align myself to that struggle and align my children (and my husband) even though they will not be seen as Black because of their fair complexion, features and being half white. I’m going to raise them to fight for those who haven’t gotten the respect they deserve because Black people before them shed a lot of blood, sweat and tears for this country. Black people of privilege (a growing population) need to remember to embrace our Black identities and history. It’s a great burden to bare but it makes us strong and people of character. To me it is what differentiates us the most from so many White people or White status people. We don’t have the “luxury” to not care and only think of ourselves. We have a greater good to serve and if we serve it, it keeps us honest, brave and gives us perspective that makes us respect all walks of life. Black people have the power to make the world a better place (just look at the movements the Civil Rights inspired around the world).
Love it!
Correction. Frantz Fanon is Caribbean as well. So there ya go. Anyway, I don’t mean to make it about how lame Caribbean people or vice versa. I have been to regions of the South where that colorism still stands. And I have met really afro-centric Caribbean people. Like, intense. I don’t think we need to point fingers. There are people in regions of India who call themselves black and feel a connection with other blacks in the Diaspora. And some East Indians would rather be burned alive than be associated with blackness.
My 6 year old son and 5 year old daughter refer to themselves as brown. My son considers himself light brown, and my daughter considers herself brown. They refer to White people as peach people. They think of their bi-racial cousin as peach, because his skin is so light. When they talk about their classmates, they sometimes describe their skin color and will say things like so and so is peach, or light brown, or dark brown, or brown. They consider Indian students, and some Hispanic students as brown.
So far, I haven’t corrected them. I haven’t told them that peach people are considered White people and brown people are considered Black people. I guess I should, but I kind of want to wait until they’re older to talk about race specifically, and how Black people come in different shades, but are still considered Black. And that Indian people are brown, but are a different race, and so on. It seems like too much at this age. Maybe that’s just me, though.
I believe as your written demonstrates that Black is contextual and there is nothing absolute about it. It is largely a social/political identity for me.
Black Americans or African Americans have historically dealt with the most rigid “racial classification system” both legally and socially. And we are not without our colorism. Nevertheless the one drop rule with all of its faults, made it easier to deal with racial discrimination legally. Regardless of where you were on the spectrum you were still Black. This is changing a socially and has changed legally.
If you are a black mother raising a black child in the US part of his or her socialization should include lessons/illustrations that prepares the child to cope and deal with racism in its many forms including including internalized racism.