American (with African, Polish and Dutch origins)
My biological Father was the mailman... like something out of a 1970s porno. He was 18 years older than my Mom and left her about a month after I was born. I didn’t meet my biological Father, or even know what he looked like until I found his name, phone number, and address in the yellow pages at the age of 25. When I called the number listed, his daughter answered and told me she knew who I was.
My Mom is a White woman who had 4 Black biracial children, and in many ways was ostracized by her family and society. From a young age, my Mother told me my biological Father didn't want his family to know he had a baby with a White woman. She married my Step-Dad, who is Black, when I was 5. They tried their best to create a cohesive family unit and encouraged us to tell people he was our biological Father to avoid the social stigma of us each having different Fathers. We spent more time with Mom's side of the family than Dad's due to conflicts he had within his family, but occasionally attended family reunions, cookouts, birthdays, and funerals. My Step-Dad abused my older brothers and I, which caused a huge rift in our immediate family. My maternal grandparents' house was a haven for us growing up. They supported us in times of need and never made us feel unloved or racially different.
Nanny and Papa are from small towns in upstate New York. Being several generations deep in the U.S. we do not have any cultural traditions or tangible relations to our Polish and Dutch ethnic origins. Papa has told stories about their being indigenous American and African American ancestry from his side of the family. Stories about an ‘Indian princess’ from the Blackfoot tribe being swept off her feet by a White farmer and a Black woman pretending to be her daughter's nanny to escape slavery. But he is quite the storyteller, so no one can be sure if these stories are true. I almost wish they were.
When I sought out my biological Father later in life, he admitted he'd never made an attempt to meet me, but said my paternal Grandmother had my baby portrait pinned to her vanity along with the rest of their family photos of children and grandchildren until the day she died. They'd known about me my whole life, and lived about 20 miles up the road. I learned my paternal Black relatives are originally from Louisiana, where I coincidentally spent many summers visiting my ‘Aunt’ in different cities like Shreveport, Monroe, and Baton Rouge as a child. I plan to visit New Orleans in the next year or so and hope to find out more information about my ancestry. I'm not sure I could say I'm ‘closer’ to one part of my culture than the other because I'm from the South. In that region of the U.S., you may be of a different race, but we're all culturally Southerners. I grew up in what I guess would be considered economically as lower-middle-class, turned middle-class home with an interracial family, so social justice issues have always been apparent and important to me.
My Mother and Step-Father told me the world saw me as a little Black girl and that no matter how nice, or smart, or talented, or light-skinned I was, my life would be challenging. I remember being dropped off at an all Black church’s Sunday school and being asked ‘what are you doing here White girl?’, by a little girl with her hand on her hip; being called an albino gorilla at a diverse primary school; being told to hide on the floor of the car as we passed a Kuntry Koffe Kup cafe while driving through a sundown town just an hour outside of Dallas; attending a basketball camp at Tarleton University where I slept in a dorm alone because my roommate didn’t want to sleep near a Black girl, and my predominantly White teammates attached velcro to my textured hair and laughed. When I started my period at age 8, Dad made me watch ‘A Time to Kill’, I guess to show me what I was up against with regard to race and rape.
My parents seemed to want to make sure I was exposed to challenging situations and endured them rather than allowing me any sense of escapism. But I found identity in the poetry books by Maya Angelou and Langston Hughes my parents gifted me for Christmas. I found refuge in their writing, in music, and in fictional characters like Hermione Granger & Percy Jackson. Half-bloods and demigods. I found lineage through studying art history in college and seeking out artists who are Black for inspiration, values, and guidance. Through these experiences and this education, at my best I'm someone who doesn't shy away from difficult conversations or conflict. I understand and can articulate the way racism and prejudice exist in everyday life with creativity and clarity. At my worst, I've allowed my struggles to consume and define me.
Moving from the U.S. to London so early in my 20s on my own forced me to assert and navigate my identity in new ways. In the U.S. people will often ask ‘what are you?’ to understand your race. Whereas here, asking someone ‘where are you from’ to understand their ethnicity is a prerequisite to any and every conversation amongst people of colour. Having to review my positionality daily, I suddenly felt I had to take pride in being from Texas when I'd never thought to identify with my home state or even the country strongly before. Black American culture is championed here, but also not really accepted as an identity. People often try to guess my ethnic background based on my features, which encouraged me to develop a greater understanding of Blackness across the diaspora and learn more about the diversity of Black culture that exists in the U.S. and around the globe.
The intersection of race and gender has presented many challenges in my life. Within my family, our differing ideologies have been hard for me to cope with. My Step-Dad and older brothers, all Black men, voted for Trump in 2024, while my White mother and maternal grandparents did not. I'm estranged from the majority of my family due to not being able to make peace with our interpersonal conflicts and differences, which has made me feel isolated and affected my sense of self.
I've spent the majority of my life trying to heal my family's intergenerational trauma, and eventually left it behind in hopes I'd find belonging elsewhere. But I've struggled due to my experiences with domestic abuse at home and sexual assault when I went out into the world on my own. It's complex to explain, but being a woman and racially ambiguous can make people feel more comfortable projecting their covert prejudices and/or desires/fantasies onto you. It can make an individual susceptible to harm or at a loss of communal protection when we are not seen as kin or recognized in our full humanity. Though this is something I'm still healing from, it's made me resilient, empathetic, and protective.
We all live in multitudes. Don't allow anyone to tell you who you are or make your appearance the topic of every conversation; it dulls the mind and makes for shallow connections. When you are lonely, lean on your passions. When you're lost, remember your values and search for inspiration. I think something that can be appreciated about me is that I am authentic and multifaceted. I can be adaptable, but I don't conform. I've always had the attitude that I can find my way into or around any space due to my talents, skills, and knowledge, or my differences. I'd rather stand out or leave a situation than assimilate into a space.
Sometimes I pretend Viola Davis or Audra McDonald is my Mother, and either Denzel Washington or President Obama is my Father. They all have creative drive and this sense of wisdom and indestructible integrity that I admire and aspire to develop. In recent years, I've admired artist and Black feminist Lorraine O'Grady. She's done so much in her lifetime and didn't even become a visual artist until her 40s. Her journey is inspiring, and I resonate with the critical and compassionate lens through which she examines the world.
I don’t like the term ‘mixed-race’. When I think of the word mixed, I think of something undefined or indistinguishable. I prefer to say I’m Black and White and Biracial. Both/And, because that is specific and expansive language rather than uncertain and limiting. When you’re not specific and assured, someone else will attempt to define you for their benefit or comfort. I believe a person's environment is what makes them ‘mixed up’ or unsure of who they should be, and the search for belonging can distract anyone from their innate sense of who they are, just as much as it can allow the space for you to become and shape change.
I think Brazilian culture is beautiful and something I'd love to learn more about. From the outside, it appears to be a culture that embraces its mixed heritage with a sense of fluidity and acceptance that is integrated into the cultural fabric. I think Portuguese is a beautiful language with rich oral traditions; there's a deep appreciation for art, food, music, the landscape, and an integral sense of joy and celebration in Brazilian culture is appealing to me. I'm really meant for the heat of the sun; England is stealing my natural glow and the warmth from my bones! There seems to be more respect for indigenous cultures in Brazil and a connection to the spirit of the land that I respect.
I celebrate my Black heritage through Juneteenth celebrations, jazz, blues, gospel, country, and Texas rap CDs/records, Texas BBQ, and Creole/Cajun food traditions. I've got a Dooky Chase cookbook in my kitchen.
I'm trying my damndest to learn to speak French, practice cooking my favorite Creole dishes, and learn more about traditions within my spiritual practice. I've always had a natural talent for singing jazz, blues, and folk music, which makes me feel inherently connected to my southern roots.
In creative fields like fine art, film, theatre, music, and modeling, I'm often categorized as either Black or simply ‘othered’. Sometimes my specific presentation of Blackness isn't always what's envisioned, which I understand, but I'm also never considered for decidedly White roles. When necessary, I ask about how my identity is being interpreted for the narrative and always prep my hair or teach stylists how to manage my hair to ensure we all feel good about creating an accurate representation. I love fantasy and sci-fi genres because, though tethered to the socio-political constructs and biases of reality, there's potential to explore identity in imaginative ways.
My maternal grandmother's favorite flowers are tulips, which is the only link she's made apparent to me from her ethnic origins in the Netherlands. So I buy tulips at the first sign of spring. She recently asked me what of hers I'd like to be gifted to me in her will. Though sad to even think about, I told her I'd love to have her recipe book that was handed down to her from her Mother and her Mother’s Mother. My Grandmother is the most beloved baker and cake decorator in the local community. Her sweet offerings are some of my most cherished memories. She has beautiful handwriting and is the person who taught me how to write and encouraged me to be creative in any way I saw fit. That’s a love and tradition that has enriched my spirit and that I hope to carry with me always.