Ridiculous Questions and Comments

The other day I had one of those biracial moments while I was at work. It was the typical "what race are you?", or are you mixed?" question. The lady that asked wanted to know what was I mixed with, so I proceeded to tell her I was black and white, and then inevitably she wanted to know which parent was black. I thought this was the end of the interrogation, because that is what usually happens, but it didn't stop there. " You know you really can't tell you're part black", the lady said, "except for your hair". I had my hair long and straight that day. " I can only tell because of your roots are like mine at the top", she continued patting the top of her hair which my hair looked nothing like. As she began to ask another question, you could tell she was assuming things about me in the middle of asking it. " Which box do you choose," She paused, " white?". Now, I hadn't had anyone ask me this question in a very long time, but it is still one of the most annoying ever, especially when the person doesn't know you well. Why in the world should it matter to someone you don't know which race you choose to identify with? " No", I replied, " I choose both". The woman looked surprised. I had thoroughly thrown off the assumptions she had made based on my lighter skin color and tone of voice. Then if that wasn't enough, she had to ask me my husband's race when she saw the picture of my three year old son. My three year old son looks like a white little boy with light, brown, loose and bouncy curls. His eyes are dark brown and exactly shaped like mine, but other than that, he is the spitting image of his father. "Is your husband white?" The woman asked. I told her yes that he was white. I should have left it at that, but I guess I am just too nice and polite at times. I mentioned that he had some Indian in his family. The lady said " Oh, well your husband is black then". What!! Was she serious? So Native Americans are also black now?? I wanted to laugh. I don't remember what end the conversation but it ended in that moment. The woman mumbled something about how Indians were like blacks.

I understand it when blacks try to push a black only identity on me, but Native Americans? I wonder what the Native Americans would think of their new found status as black Americans. I guess in some weird way, by saying that the Indians were black, that was how she could still apply the One Drop Rule to not only me, but my son as well.