IBARW: An Incomplete List of Incidents
Backstory: My mother is white (Russian Jew), my father is black (African, Naticoke, and Irish).
Early Years
1972 - Man punches Mother in stomach while calling her a "Nigger Lover." She is 7 months pregant with me
1973 - Earache. A (black) neighbor takes Mom to the hospital with me, and nurses tell my Mom that if she needs to get away from "her pimp", they have resources and can help her
Elementary School
- Called a Zebra by Walter.... Don't remember what his last name was. Defended by Rebecca Kresch, a tiny, rich, blonde, white girl. YOU GO REBECCA!!!
- Mia Farrow refuses to let her children come to my birthday party because I live in a "bad neighborhood". She also asks my mother where my mother "got" me. My mother tells her, "My uterus."
- am informed by Dad that "White men will only want to date you as a way to show their dominance over the black race. Black men will only want you for how light your skin is."
High School
- Told that I do not have the "mindset" for A.P. Chemistry or Bio or English, despite B's and A's in all subjects
- Black student tells me I am a traitor to my race for identifying as interracial. Said student's grandmother is Japanese
- Never cast for a single play, because I "don't have the right look". In my senior year I finally am put in the chorus of the school musical, and am placed in the farthest back corner despite teaching the rest of the chorus the dance steps, and despite having taken ballet at the NY School of Ballet, and studied dance at Alvin Ailey from the ages of 3-16
College
- freshman year am told I am not "black enough" to be part of African Student Union
- am accused of hating myself by other black students for identifying as interracial
- am told by graduate students that if I would make art about what I know about - about being black and female, I'd have a real shot at being a good artist
- Master of college assumes that I am an actual cafeteria lady because like MOST students I work in cafeteria (best money). Is shocked when he sees me in gown on graduation day
Post-College
- Called "high yellow bitch", etc. on street, really, this one goes from puberty to present day. It's a lot better now that I am over 30 and not super-duper-uber hot any more. Those 20 extra pounds save me a LOT of hassle.
- Cut by a skinhead as part of a larger crime, in Boston. HOORAY FOR PLASTIC SURGERY!!!
Graduate School
- Am told that there is "no real race problem in Boston anymore"
- Cannot get served at a Boston bar until accompanied by a white Marine (SEMPER FI!!!!)
- Informed that I am "lazy" numerous times by multiple professors and critics. Most notable was the critic who was raving about my work before she knew who had done it, but when she laid eyes on me said that it was obvious that the work was "lazy". This particular perjorative is applied to a LOT of black students, I notice. We apparently are often "lazy" or "lacking in rigor... intellectually speaking."
Post-Graduate School
- Cannot gain entrance in a local Somerville eatery until some white people do (long story, fingers tired)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I am sure there were jobs I didn't get, etc., that had to do with race, but really, you can't prove a negative. Right?
There are people I've interacted with that I'm 99% sure had an issue with me due to race, but I also know that if I called them on it, or spoke with their partner about it, I'd end up in a shit-storm of defensiveness and hurt feelings. My feelings would be hurt, their feelings would be hurt.
The worst stuff for me is either not being believed when stuff happened, or condescendingly explained to how that "really wasn't what happened."
It takes a LOT for me to say something is race based. A LOT. My father had a tendency to jump right to racism before everything else. I usually go to it last. I only go there when I've weighed the options. And I use Occam's razor. Sometimes a cigar IS a cigar, and sometimes that cigar is rolled by racist hands.
N.
Early Years
1972 - Man punches Mother in stomach while calling her a "Nigger Lover." She is 7 months pregant with me
1973 - Earache. A (black) neighbor takes Mom to the hospital with me, and nurses tell my Mom that if she needs to get away from "her pimp", they have resources and can help her
Elementary School
- Called a Zebra by Walter.... Don't remember what his last name was. Defended by Rebecca Kresch, a tiny, rich, blonde, white girl. YOU GO REBECCA!!!
- Mia Farrow refuses to let her children come to my birthday party because I live in a "bad neighborhood". She also asks my mother where my mother "got" me. My mother tells her, "My uterus."
- am informed by Dad that "White men will only want to date you as a way to show their dominance over the black race. Black men will only want you for how light your skin is."
High School
- Told that I do not have the "mindset" for A.P. Chemistry or Bio or English, despite B's and A's in all subjects
- Black student tells me I am a traitor to my race for identifying as interracial. Said student's grandmother is Japanese
- Never cast for a single play, because I "don't have the right look". In my senior year I finally am put in the chorus of the school musical, and am placed in the farthest back corner despite teaching the rest of the chorus the dance steps, and despite having taken ballet at the NY School of Ballet, and studied dance at Alvin Ailey from the ages of 3-16
College
- freshman year am told I am not "black enough" to be part of African Student Union
- am accused of hating myself by other black students for identifying as interracial
- am told by graduate students that if I would make art about what I know about - about being black and female, I'd have a real shot at being a good artist
- Master of college assumes that I am an actual cafeteria lady because like MOST students I work in cafeteria (best money). Is shocked when he sees me in gown on graduation day
Post-College
- Called "high yellow bitch", etc. on street, really, this one goes from puberty to present day. It's a lot better now that I am over 30 and not super-duper-uber hot any more. Those 20 extra pounds save me a LOT of hassle.
- Cut by a skinhead as part of a larger crime, in Boston. HOORAY FOR PLASTIC SURGERY!!!
Graduate School
- Am told that there is "no real race problem in Boston anymore"
- Cannot get served at a Boston bar until accompanied by a white Marine (SEMPER FI!!!!)
- Informed that I am "lazy" numerous times by multiple professors and critics. Most notable was the critic who was raving about my work before she knew who had done it, but when she laid eyes on me said that it was obvious that the work was "lazy". This particular perjorative is applied to a LOT of black students, I notice. We apparently are often "lazy" or "lacking in rigor... intellectually speaking."
Post-Graduate School
- Cannot gain entrance in a local Somerville eatery until some white people do (long story, fingers tired)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I am sure there were jobs I didn't get, etc., that had to do with race, but really, you can't prove a negative. Right?
There are people I've interacted with that I'm 99% sure had an issue with me due to race, but I also know that if I called them on it, or spoke with their partner about it, I'd end up in a shit-storm of defensiveness and hurt feelings. My feelings would be hurt, their feelings would be hurt.
The worst stuff for me is either not being believed when stuff happened, or condescendingly explained to how that "really wasn't what happened."
It takes a LOT for me to say something is race based. A LOT. My father had a tendency to jump right to racism before everything else. I usually go to it last. I only go there when I've weighed the options. And I use Occam's razor. Sometimes a cigar IS a cigar, and sometimes that cigar is rolled by racist hands.
N.