Being a bi-racial woman has left me with an identity crisis that I am only now beginning to sort through. A lifetime of trying to give myself a label has left me feeling like a fake: not good enough to be Black or White.
Whenever my Auntie’s cornrowed my hair or when I got braids in high school, I remember my white boyfriends looking at me with disgust before saying, ‘Oh! And when will you get rid of those.’ My Black friends applauded and said, ‘Finally! You look like you’re supposed to.‘ I was too White to part of the joke yet Black enough to be the butt of the joke. I was Black enough to count as a racially diverse hire but white enough to not offend anyone. I had no one to guide me through this socially mystifying maze.
But I also feel like this racial ambiguity is somewhat empowering. I know that I have a lot of learn from my Black brothers and sisters and my light skin puts me in a position of privilege. And I need to use that privilege to educate, support and raise my family up. But I am also a Black woman who has struggled and I am allowed to celebrate the beauty, strength and history that comes with that. Being biracial is a delicate balance that I am still navigating.
When Kamala Harris was sworn into her role as VP of the USA in January, I wrote the following instagram post. I feel like it encapsulates everything I have been struggling to say:
This was it. This was the trigger I needed to finally sob. Seeing Kamala Harris sworn in as VP of the USA was far more personal than I anticipated. My life has been spent in a sort of racial limbo, feeling neither Black nor white, playing a role based on the audience, never whole, feeling alienated and unsure. I didn’t have anyone to look up to, a biracial woman whose example would lead me to feel less like a lost voyager and more like I had at least a few trail markers to guide me. Today, I watched a bi racial (half Jamaican) woman become one of the most powerful people in the world. She broke glass ceiling after glass ceiling, allowing herself to be defined only by strength, knowledge, intelligence and grace. As she walked out on the stage, my son said, ‘Mummy- she looks like you,’ and I was immediately overcome by emotion. Yes. There is she. And she looks like me.
Finally, little girls who look like me will know that they can truly do anything. Finally, little girls who look like me will know that they can be anything that they want to be, defined only by love, Kindness and determination. There are no barriers, no rules, no chains, just the knowledge that we too, are beautiful warriors. We are symbols of a future filled with freedom, acceptance and above all, love. Today, Little Natalie was set free.