Racially Ambiguous

I was raised as a Black American.  I am, by ethnic origin, not only Black American but also Arabic.  Being raised by only one parent it was easy for me to forget or even dismiss my Arabic heritage.  I felt Black, therefore I was Black, but this is not really the case.  On more than one occasion I have been caught in an awkward situation of a White person discussing racial matters under the assumption that I wouldn’t be offended by an off color remark.

True story, at a party last year an older lady was building up to a racist Obama joke in the small circle of women that included yours truly and was literally saved by the host making an announcement.  My mind was racing double time hoping that she wasn’t saying what I thought she was saying and how on earth to put her in her place and not alienate everyone one else in the room (because of course I was the only person of color).  Luckily it didn’t come to that and I was only left to wonder why on earth someone would try and tell a joke like that in front of someone like me.  Don’t they see me the way I see me? NO.

RACE: Are We So Different?

I am starting to think, at least here and now, what is on the inside matters as much as what’s on the outside.  People will make assumptions about me based on what they see.  What is important is that I stay true to myself and inform my girls of their ancestors and not just their Black American and Jamaican ones.