“What Are You Mixed With?”

“You’re such a white girl.”, “you have really pretty hair for a black girl!”, “you don’t look mixed.” 

These are just some of my favorites I’ve heard growing up as a biracial woman. Growing up biracial I had two identities, my black side, and my Asian side. My school district was predominantly white, but I was fortunate to have a diverse friendgroup, but I always stuck out like a sore thumb. When I hung out with my black friends, I was always the “white girl” of that friend group and when I hung out with my white friends, I wasthe token black friend. But even then, the white friend group would make comments like “you’re not like the other girls.” And it took me months to realize that the “other girls” they were referring to were black girls and how I am not “loud”, or “ghetto” like them. It wasn’t until I got out of high school that I realized my identity had developed around my peers, needless to say I had multiple identity crises or as my mom would say “phases”. 

​At age 17, my boyfriend was captain of the varsity soccer team, chemistry tutor, basically my school’s “Troy Bolton”. We were holding hands after his soccer game and one of his teammates passively said, “okay big dog I didn’t know you were into black girls.” They dapped each other up and I awkwardly smiled and let go of his hand. On the outside I was calm but, on the inside, I felt so much rage and embarrassment that I didn’t know how to react. My white boyfriend explained to me that it wasn’t a big deal and that it was a compliment. Mr. “Troy Bolton” was dumped shortly after that. 

At 21, I went to my first college party with my roommates and one other friend. It was a football party, and I didn’t know what to expect but I was excited to go and thought it was going to be like the parties you see in the movies. Girl, I was wrong. There was a line to get into the 2×4 apartment and men who looked like they were on the brute squad guarding the door. Coming to a PWI college where the only black or mixed people here are athletes they didn’t really care for black girls or girls with a dark complexion and that’s something I unfortunately saw with my own eyes. When we saw the line out the door, I noticed that the white girls or light mixed girls were getting in before the girls who had my complexion or darker. When I told my girls what I saw my friend who had a darker complexion looked at me and said, “you’re light skin if they see you first they will let us in behind you.” That eye twitching response isn’t what I expected. 

Colorism, a controversial topic that is discrimination based on skin complexion, clearly plays a role in the ways that our society picks and chooses minorities it wants to show. The truth is that being mixed can be confusing and fun at the same time. There have been moments where I felt like an outsider from my friends who weren’t mixed and my own cultures. 

Now, I am proud to say I have a more diverse, educated, and loving friend group. I am finally at the age where I can recognize my privilege in being mixed, but my luck in finding both black and Asian people that I love and identify with.