Be A Friend…

<a href="http://abittersweetexistence.com/" title="A Bittersweet Existence"> <img src="http://abittersweetexistence.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/New-ABE-Button.jpg" alt="ABE Button" style="border:none;" /></a>


Find Me Here:


Stats & Stuff…

Search & Win

I Am Proud

Crissy and K**The following is a guest post from Crissy from Our Life… One Step at a Time.**

I’m a biracial woman in an interracial relationship living in Omaha, Nebraska.  I’ve lived here my entire life and I’ve experienced all sorts of reactions from people in regards to my race.

I was raised by my white mother and aunt.  My father left when I was three and I never had any sort of relationship with him or that side of my family after that.  There was nothing wrong with being raised in an all white family except that I just never got to the know the other side of “me”.  I also wanted to know more about my African American side, but my mother didn’t want me having anything to do  with my father’s family.  I don’t blame her.  I just feel like I missed out.  Growing up I went to a school of about 400 children with 92% of the school being Caucasian.  I’ll never forget that number because I felt like such an outsider most of the time.  Then, in junior high, I came to know my first bully.  She was horrible to me.  She told me I “acted white”..she told me I had to “pick a side because I couldn’t be both”…she called me.. “an Oreo”.  It was terrible.  Then I moved onto high school and things got much better.  There was LOTS of diversity and I made friends of all different races.  I’ll forever love my high school memories for that reason.

Since graduating from high school and going to college I have seen many things that make me proud to live in Omaha as well as some things that make me not so proud.  I really don’t understand why everyone just can’t get along.  I know, it seems so simple.  But, it’s not. Not in this world.  Not with so much hate and pride.  I’ve heard the term “hoods” used many times.  People have to “represent” these hoods.  A large majority of the African American community lives in North Omaha.  Hispanics represent a large majority of South Omaha.  I’m not saying that these ethnic groups don’t live in other parts of Omaha as well though.

Anyways.. the point of this whole thing is to talk about what it’s like living in Omaha as a biracial woman in an interracial relationship.   I would like to say that I still don’t get asked what race I am.  But I do.  I would like to say that me and my white fiancé don’t still get stares. But we do.  Not all of the time.  But it still happens.  Just the other night we were going to the mall with our daughter (who has light skin just like my fiancé) and we got some very negative stares from a black man who looked to be around 22 or 23.  He stared at us the entire time until we got into the mall.  At a parade my family went to this summer an older white woman stared at us the same way.  It breaks my heart but never my spirits.

My daughter who is the light of my life and my reason for being is blessed to have dirty blonde hair like her father.  Big blue eyes like her father.  She doesn’t have my black curly hair or my big brown eyes.  But she is my daughter and has other traits of mine.  But because she doesn’t have my skin color people tend to wonder how we’re related.  In the public I’ve been asked if I’m her babysitter. Her aunt. I’ve also been asked if she was adopted.  What are people thinking? Again..it breaks my heart but never my spirits.

I’m grateful that we live in Omaha though.  It’s a very diverse city and I wouldn’t want to raise my daughter any other way then exposed to as much diversity as possible.  I want her to know about both of her ethnicities and her different cultures.  I want her to friend people of all different sizes, shapes, and colors.  I want her to love with all of her heart just like me and her daddy do.  I want her to know that we hope that one day all people are going to be created equal.  I want her to know that it’s never okay to judge someone by the color of their skin.  I want her to rise above it all with her head held high and be proud to be who she is.  Just like her mama.  I am proud to be biracial.  I am proud to be in a wonderful interracial relationship. I. Am. Proud.

Protected by Copyscape Online Plagiarism Detector

Come on…don’t copy- get your own material. Nobody likes a cheater! Original & Hand Written Plagiarism Will Be Detected. This site is being monitored by CopyGator. Mmkay? Thanks.

Share this post: Share this post with the world.
  • Twitter
  • Posterous
  • Facebook
  • laaik.it
  • del.icio.us
  • Digg
  • LinkedIn
  • StumbleUpon
  • Technorati

1 comment to I Am Proud

  • I am the mother of 4 biracial kids and if you lined them up in a row you would be confused. I am a very light skinned non spanish speaking (I can order tacos and that is where it ends) chicana and my husband is “African American” so my kids are the damn rainbow coalition.

    Princess is never mistaken for anything but black, Green will spend his life convincing people he is black, Wylde is the classic “bi-racial” loose curled kid and Zen looks eastern european with straight hair, black eyes and olive skin. None of them look alike at all. Not all of them look white or black or mexican. Yet when we all go out together I am sure people stare and think we adopted them or we are babysitting. The truth is I don’t care. The truth is someday they will. In this country race matters to others even if it doesnt matter to us and as a result we are the ones who have to deal with it.

    I don’t like when people say they are color-blind because I think they are liars. No one is colorblind and if so it’s nothing to brag about. My kids are black, maybe not on the outside but on the inside and they feel it. Being “of color” is beautiful and it an extra cool thing about you. Why would anyone want to be blind to something that great?

    My kids also are always “The Black Kids” at school and as small children it doesn’t matter because kids are great that way. Princess however now feels the effects of going to school and not having any girlfriends who need to grease their scalp, oil their legs to not be ashy and hide from the rain when their hair is freshly pressed. For her being a black woman is hard when she has few black women in her life. I appreciate your words because she feels all that you described feeling. Its hard. I wish more people understood that.

    Thanks for your honesty and thanks for sharing.

    ~Renegade Mom Uno (thats my other spanish word I know)

Leave a Reply

 

 

 

You can use these HTML tags

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>

CommentLuv badge