The Family Pangaea

With a rich heritage rooted in various parts of the globe, Pangaea comes to mind when pondering our sons’ racial make-up. For the sake of simplification, we call Raf & Armand bi-racial, or multicultural since listing African, Native American, German, Italian, Scots-Irish & Mexican seems a bit long-winded. In addition, given the strong tendency towards fragmentation – culturally speaking that is – Pangaea aptly symbolizes the primordial unification of Earth’s land masses and therefore, humanity. As stated in an earlier exploration titled,  “I’m What?… ” my husband and I are on a mission to raise our sons to be whole, happy and positive contributors on this planet. And it’s about as general yet complex as it sounds. The notion of wholeness & embracing one’s full self is a work in progress, as we parents strive to follow suit in our own lives. Just what does it mean to be a man, woman, child, American, White, Black, and plain old human? I imagine many would agree that these are some seriously loaded questions, which brings me right back to that über ancient supercontinent that began to break apart about 100 million years ago. The massive drift largely responsible for the current global landscape laid the framework for the myriad of (often clashing) cultures & colors also known as contemporary humanity.

The family-mixed-roots-image

Referring to our young, loving, energetic duo, that which has been likened to a mixed bag of multicultural goodness also embodies the fundamental essence of human equality and oneness. The ever-evolving face of Mama Earth vividly illustrates the awesome beauty of inter-connectedness, and we pray, takes root in the burgeoning of a healthy sense of cultural identity for our beloved boys.

By: May 2014 Guest Blogger – Sky Obercam

skyphoto

Born & raised in Philly, Sky currently resides in the San Francisco

Bay Area. A full-time mamma, and creative spirit, she’s lent her voice

to The Source, Format Magazine, Bossip, Black Web 2.0, Vibe Vixen,

Frugivore, XO Jane and co-founded art & culture blog,

Visual Culture. Peep her blog, Mindless Culture vs. Sky Obercam, for

updates on new (and hopefully exciting) endeavors, as well as

entertaining tid-bits, info, and arbitrary rantings from the

self-proclaimed eccentric.

(due to an abundance of spam, we’ve had to turn off comments here, but please head over to our  Facebook page- we’d love to hear and share your thoughts there! facebook.com/MixedRootsStories) 
 

“I’m What?”: The Adventures of Raising a Racially Ambiguous Bi-Racial Child

The deep rooted nature of racial segregation and inequality in the good ole U S of A can hurl certain individuals right through the black & white, past the shades of grey and often into the complex, multihued road less traveled: Winding, rugged paths riddled with rusty old warning signs like “Do Not Enter” or “Dead End”. My husband, David and I began our journey 15 years ago and my Lawd was it a heck of a hike… Kinda endemic amongst Black/White interracial couples, no?

Perhaps what makes our union unique from a purely surface perspective is our apparent racial/cultural ambiguity. Essentially, we’ve been asked to unravel the ‘mystery’ of our racial make-up a lot throughout our lives. David, who is Pennsylvania Dutch & Italian is often mistaken for being Latino, Jewish or Arab. When folks openly assume I’m bi-racial, Latino, and so forth, I let ‘em know in so many words that I’m just a paler shade of “Black” & occasionally disclose the details of my deep rooted mixed heritage when the spirit moves me.

So naturally, when we decided to start a family 7 years into our union, David and I were hip to the fact that this issue of racial/cultural ambiguity was about to get put on full blast – particularly in this racially hostile culture obsessed with labeling and division. We wanted to help our children embrace the fullness of their heritage, develop a sense of inner harmony and take pride in their uniqueness. To that end, we moved from Philadelphia to San Francisco’s East Bay shortly after our first son, Rafi, was born. ‘Twas our very own quirky paradise: It ain’t perfect but the East Bay is home to communities that exemplify social & environmental progressivism – attributes completely aligned with our values and beliefs.

So while we relocated miles away from our close knit, multicultural village of family and friends, our commitment to immersing Rafi (and eventually his baby bro Armand) in a world brimming with a veritable array of family units was absolutely solid. We’d entered a sphere in which the mixed experience was a common one – the figurative cherry on top.

See, as a West Philly native, I knew countless youths, both mixed and otherwise, grappling with identity issues to some degree. Maybe it was the time in which I came up, but the process looked quite uncomfortable (to say the least). The internalized ‘race based’ battles I’d witnessed were the last thing I wanted any child of mine to endure. The realization, however, was that perhaps the whole predicament was completely out of my hands. My suspicions were justified, fears confirmed and empathy enhanced the day I observed my son’s reaction to learning he was half Black.

Our Eldest Son

It may sound like plain old mamma pride, but I gotta say that Rafi is one of the most sensitive, perceptive, creative and hysterical people I’ve ever known. Like most children, he views the world with eyes of pure innocence and openness. In that vein, David and I became hesitant to introduce him to matters with inherent mind-warping qualities like religion or racism. We thought such topics should be addressed when he was mature enough to grasp the overall concepts involved. “Why not develop a healthy sense of identity in this fractious society before slipping down any rabbit holes?” we justified.

There’s this excellent Sesame Street book titled We’re Different, We’re the Same that pretty much sums up the outlook of young ones (or perhaps the extremely rare adult who somehow avoided the mental shackles of self-loathing, ‘otherisms’, etc.) This innate ability allows individuals to view themselves and the world around them without judgment. Now at the age of 5, Rafi became acutely aware of varying skin tones. For example, he began noting if someone appeared pink, tan, brown or “orange” – it was all about the rainbow. We were unaware that Raf picked up on the institutionalized race-culture-color connection until one morning when he asked about a classmate of his named Tim, a Filipino child whose adoptive mother looked markedly different from him.

“Mommy, what color is Tim?” Raf asked. Unaware of li’l Tim’s background at the time, I replied, “He’s sort of a dark caramel color.”

“Yes, but his mommy is white.”

Whomp! There it was… “Yes, she is white. She is his adoptive mother.” I proceeded to explain that his buddy Keith was a Black child adopted by a white woman.

“Well,” Rafi continues, I’m glad everybody in our family is the same color.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “Well, daddy’s White, me and Armand are White and you’re White.”

I was shocked and amused. No one ever mistook me for being White before. Warmly I asked, “You think mommy’s white?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“Why is that Rafi?”

“Because we are all the same color.”

My li’l man had a point. Despite the ‘opposing’ categories David & I had been assigned to, we shared some similar physical characteristics, including our complexion.

So I continue, “Actually, mommy isn’t White. I’m Black which some people call African American.”

“But you’re not brown,” Rafi said bewildered.

“That’s true, but neither is Grand [my father], but he’s Black too. Daddy is White and mommy is Black, and you and Armand are half White and half Black.

At this point, tears began to well up in his Rafi’s eyes. It was as if I told a long-time believer that jolly ole Santa was a lie. Cuddling next to him, I asked his why he felt sad. The more I inquired, the deeper he burrowed himself into the living room couch. I longed to understand what he was feeling. Could it be shame, the pain borne of confusion? Perhaps it was a sense of deceit? I was in unchartered territory. I’d never questioned my racial identity, especially at that tender age. In an attempt to soothe his apparent anguish, I began to highlight other playmates that shared mixed (black and white) parentage, but to no avail.

It must be the melanin factor, I thought. It seemed that Rafi couldn’t quite grasp how someone who was not brown skinned, could be considered Black. It just didn’t compute. Welcome to Race Relations U.S. 101, my love. First up on the syllabus: The one-drop rule…. Ok, I didn’t go there. He was only 5 and this was our first collective step in this direction. As the tears continued to well up in his eyes, I warmly asked Raf to catch my gaze. I felt damn near speechless as I witnessed his entrée into this area of self-discovery trigger such discomfort.

“You may not know this now, but your heritage is something to be extremely proud of not just because it’s unique, but because it is yours.” Lovingly, I urged him not shy away from the complexities of his lineage, but celebrate his embodiment of them.

The resilience of a youthful spirit is no joke. Shortly after our talk, Raf was back to the business of boisterous play with his little brother. I, on the other hand, remained on the living room couch a spell longer in contemplation.

I realized my desire to see the world through the eyes of my children was outweighed by the foolish aspiration to manage their perception. I don’t want my boys to be crippled by prejudice and racism. I pray they stand tall and allow the foul byproducts of institutionalized racism simply roll off their shoulders fortified by the strength of authentic self-love.

I'm What-OberCamFam
By: May 2014 Guest Blogger – Sky Obercam
sky_one

Born & raised in Philly, Sky currently resides in the San Francisco

Bay Area. A full-time mamma, and creative spirit, she’s lent her voice

to The Source, Format Magazine, Bossip, Black Web 2.0, Vibe Vixen,

Frugivore, XO Jane and co-founded art & culture blog,

Visual Culture. Peep her blog, Mindless Culture vs. Sky Obercam, for

updates on new (and hopefully exciting) endeavors, as well as

entertaining tid-bits, info, and arbitrary rantings from the

self-proclaimed eccentric.

(due to an abundance of spam, we’ve had to turn off comments here, but please head over to our  Facebook page- we’d love to hear and share your thoughts there! facebook.com/MixedRootsStories) 

The Things We Say to Each Other – by Guest Blogger June Snow

June & the boysIt was a beautiful summer day, I had recently moved to California and my kids were invited to a birthday party. The sun was strong but at Stevens Park there was a bit of a chill. The sun couldn’t reach me through the thick trees.

I remember the boys were excited. I found the party hostess. She had a sort of cold presence next to me. I had met her only once before, but it was unmemorable. I thanked her for the invite, commented on the weather and when her kids ran up, introduced them to each other.

I watched excitement grow in the eyes and in the entire being of my kids. My older son (experienced in birthday parties) quickly eyed the food, the presents, the goody bags. My younger son, oblivious to all that lay around him, was just excited to get playing.

Her two kids and my kids ran off to play. Although my eyes bore holes in the backs of my kids, I said, “They are all so beautiful!”

“It’s because of that blonde hair and blue eyes.”

Hmmm, I looked at my kids, did I mention I’m African American? My kids have black and brown hair. Their skin and eye color are almost the same description. Huh?! I thought, my kids don’t have blonde-hair and blue…
Oh she’s talking about her own kids.

Who says that to another parent?
Your kids aren’t as beautiful as mine? Is that what she just said to me?

As it turns out, we all say it. We look at kids, photos, videos, blogs, posts and respond, “Beautiful!” Leaving others to question, who is not beautiful?

I hear all the time, mixed kids are so beautiful– so does that mean unmixed kids are not?

I was hurt by this woman.  I think no matter what, we must always be aware of the things we say and spout out when we are not thinking.

(due to an abundance of spam, we’ve had to turn off comments here, but please head over to our Facebook page – we’d love to hear and share your thoughts there! facebook.com/MixedRootsStories)

By: April 2014 Guest Blogger  – June Snow

photo June Snow is a mom of two wonderful kids – Blaise & Miles – and is also the Race Director, along with Rusty Snow, of the Santa Barbara International Veterans Day Marathon. Her family is from Belize and she grew up in Cambridge, MA.




“Just Checking” In – by Guest Blogger Eddie Nwabuoku

Late last May, I had the television on in the background while I worked. Around that time of day it would usually be tuned to HGTV (to satisfy my inner home remodeling nerd) but if I recall correctly I had it tuned to our local NBC affiliate instead. I can’t remember what show was on, but I do remember when they cut to a commercial break. That was the first time I saw the “Just Checking” ad for Cheerios. My thought process upon seeing the commercial went a little bit like this:

“Oh, would you look at that adorable little girl?…oh, is that her mom?…she said ‘Mom’, didn’t she? She did!…look at those cheeks! Awwwww…hmmm, she looks mixed, I wonder if they’re going to show her — hey, her dad’s black…did she just pour the cereal all over him? Haha!…what a nice little commercial!…hmmm, now I’m hungry…what’s for lunch?…” And I went on with my day, and thought nothing more of it.

A couple of more times during the week I saw the ad repeatedly, on different channels, and at different times of the day. I thought it was an interesting coincidence that such a wonderful commercial should start airing so close to the anniversary of Loving v. Virginia, and throughout the run-up to our annual Flagship Celebration in New York; every airing was a fitting reminder of what the Lovings went through, which made me smile when I thought of it.

And then, seemingly out of nowhere, came this backlash. I heard reports of horribly unkind and quite frankly racist comments being put under the video on the General Mills YouTube channel. I say “heard reports”, because before I had a chance to see them for myself, General Mills disabled the comments section. But knowing what I know about the psyche of Internet keyboard superheroes, who use the supposed veil of anonymity as a license for misbehavior, I could guess what they were saying. The comments were obviously bad enough for the company to disable further comment.

Still, it was puzzling. What could have motivated such vitriol, even virtually? It was such a relatively benign commercial, for breakfast cereal. The “family” was wholesome and attractive, and the child actress who played the daughter could not have been more adorable. Did they have an issue with children? Cheerios? Children eating Cheerios? Cold breakfast cereal, as opposed to warm breakfast cereal? Did they have a problem with children who litter in the comfort of their own homes? What on earth was that all about?

Was the backlash driven from the fact that this commercial depicted an interracial couple? An interracial couple that had the temerity to — gasp! — give birth to a child? Or was it the racial and gender composition of the couple? Would there have been any backlash at all if the couple was (say) a white man and a black woman, or a white man and an Asian woman, for instance?

As it turns out, there was a way to find out.

Two holidays bookmarked the “Just Checking” Cheerios ad: Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day. To take advantage of the selling opportunity, Kmart released two commercials: “Mommy’s Little Helper“, and “Butler in a Box“. Both feature the same naughty Capuchin monkey causing drama, and both feature the same interracial family. The father is Indian. The mother is white. They have not one, but two, kids. And the kids are each pretty clearly mixed Indian & white.

So I stood back, and braced for the imminent backlash…a backlash that never came.

Nothing. Not a single outraged tweet or Facebook post to be found.

You know that phenomenon where soon after your friend buys a white four-door car, all of a sudden it seems like every other car on the street that you see is also a white four-door car? Although I had always noticed commercials and advertising and movies and television shows that somehow featured interracial couples, post-“Just Checking” there seemed to be more and more and more. There was the series of ads for Samsung Smart TVs that featured a multi-generational Asian and white household. There’s the multi-generational, multi-racial “Family Picnic” ad for Lincoln Financial Group.

Then there was the Swiffer commercial with the Rukavinas. This real-life family comprises Zack, his wife Afi and their two children. Afi is black, and not only is Zack white, he also is an amputee. AdWeek’s article about this ad is titled “Most Inclusive Ad Ever?”

It was an entirely unscientific poll, but the results were fairly clear. The backlash was most probably fueled by the fact that the commercial showed the result of an interracial coupling between a black man and a white woman. Almost two decades into the twenty-first century, apparently, this particular pairing still was enough to raise the ire of those whose thinking was stuck in the charged racial atmosphere of decades long gone.

But, as often happens, a silver lining emerged from the dark cloud of online bigotry. In Georgia, a couple watched the Cheerios ad and was also baffled by the racist backlash. Michael David Murphy & Alyson West looked at the ad as a reflection not only of their reality (he is white, she is black, and they have a girl), but also as a reflection of a profound demographic shift in the United States. “According to the 2008 census,” as they said, “15% of new marriages are interracial. And yet, it still feels rare to see something like the Cheerios ad represented in mainstream culture.”

In response, they created the tumblr site We Are the 15 Percent, and invited readers to submit photographs of their mixed families. People from all across the country and from many countries around the world have added their family photographs to the collection. As the couple told TIME Magazine, “The site is such a natural outgrowth of our lives together; we’re in both for the long haul. We hope the site can persist long beyond its initial inspiration, and create a consistent, ongoing resource for families like our own. We can imagine that someone who submitted a wedding photo yesterday might submit a family picture, with their children, years from now!”

When General Mills released the “Just Checking” ad, representatives from the company said that although they were “a bit surprised it turned into a story…Ultimately we were trying to portray an American family, and there are lots of multicultural families in America today…and Cheerios just wants to celebrate them all.” Not only did the company stand by their commercial and what it was meant to portray, they have in fact doubled down. During Super Bowl XLVIII, one of the world’s most-watched sporting events, Cheerios debuted “Gracie“, a sequel to “Just Checking” where we learn that Gracie will soon have a baby brother. Looks like this series of advertisements is going to be around for a long while yet to come. Stay tuned!

By: February 2014 Guest Blogger – Eddie Nwabuoku
When he isn’t working on his world-changing Android app, tweeting inane yet pithy things, facebooking himself into oblivion, basking in the glow of his latest Drupal site, or speaking about himself in the third person, Eddie is the Director of Technology for the Loving Day Project.