I take a month off to reassess, to restructure, to regroup...
I had hoped to come back with great news, great ideas, great things.
And I'm not empty-handed. But first, I've got to address something. Something sinister. Something so stupid, so backwater that you would question which century you're living in.
Let me build a a nice little backstory for you:
I'm multi-racial. And proud of such. I've been asked more times than I can remember, more times than I can even IMAGINE, "What are you?"
Which to this day, is a phrase that friends and I mock, much to our nostalgic enjoyment.
This question was encountered ONLY after my family moved to my dad's native Mississippi.
I was born in Delaware and lived in Rhode Island and Massachusetts. I'm an East Coast girl through and through.
We move, and suddenly, people had to know what I was.
My initial answer was, "Umm... a freshman?" I had just started high school, so I assumed this was the correct answer.
I had never been questioned about my race before unless it was on some sort of medical sheet or what have you.
And now, people had to know what my race was. And now, people had to hate me because I wasn't what they were. And now, I irritated people because I didn't fit into their labels. I ruined their idea of what the world is.
Needless to say, high school was a bit rough for me. Not only because I was somewhere new. But also because I was somewhere that I wasn't wanted.
Now, Mississippi isn't all bad. The weather sucks, but there's some good food and some good people.
And then the New York Times runs
this article.
Imagine my pride.
Puffing up my chest proud, in fact. Not too much puffing though; my chest is big enough.
The 2010 census was the first time I had done the census myself and was proud and thankful to be able to mark myself as mixed. In fact, I believe the 2000 census was the first to have the mixed-race option.
Do correct me if I'm wrong, though.
This article was certainly eye opening: Mississippi, of all places, has the highest growing multi-racial populations - up 70 percent between 2000 and 2010.
Granted, that's still a single digit percent of the population. 1.2 percent I think.
So, this article raises my feeling of Mississippi a wee bit.
However, that pleasant feeling didn't stay.
And while 80 degree weather in the middle of March causes a constant frown for me, it's not the reason behind this post.
This
monstrosity is the cause.
I couldn't sit still after reading just the first paragraph. It was one of those that I had to come back for several sittings. The revulsion was.... I couldn't finish my breakfast.
It's always awesome to know that my parents' marriage and my entire existence is illegal in the eyes of nearly half of Mississippi Republicans.
I had gotten vaguely comfortable with the place that I'll be living until I can find somewhere to work and live that's not here.
That's gone now.
Utterly. Completely.
I'm not surprised that there are people that still think that. Come on now, I live here. I've seen these people.
I'm surprised at the amount. I'm surprised that it was large enough to fit into the newspaper.
I'm surprised that people can even begin to think that they can try to explain it away.
I'm surprised that people can even defend, to think that they can defend such... stupid, closed-minded behavior.
I'm English, French, Portuguese and second generation American from my mom's side.
I'm African American, Native American and creole French from my dad's side. (also possibly Armenian)
I'm constantly asked if I'm Hispanic, Italian, Greek, West Indian, Hawaiian...
This does not bother me. I think it's pretty cool that I can change my race, my heritage, my appearance with clothes, a look and the lack of any sort of accent. It's fun! And sometimes, people guess close enough.
They'll say, "European?" Close enough.
And while this is fun, it doesn't help when looking for love here.
I've had two boyfriends kicked out of their homes because their parents didn't approve of them dating a girl that wasn't white.
Whatever happened to marriage being about two people in love?
Whatever happened to love being about what's on the inside not what color someone's skin is?
Edit: I love this quote:
"I believe God made us a different color for a reason and should be honored by not marrying outside of the race that God picked for me, however the color of one's skin does not make him/her better than another color."
Didn't we all start in the Middle East?
We were all the same color, then traveled to different areas and took on the characteristics of the area.
She must think that humans began right before her parents' birth.