I recently wrote a post on my mom.me blog called “Challenges Parents of Multicultural Kids Can Understand.” I write about this subject from time to time because it’s our truth. There are many challenges of being a multicultural and multiracial family. Most recently, there have been a couple of instances that has prompted me to write a follow up to the article.
My family and I moved to the U.S. from Jamaica when I was six. Some people say I was too young to remember my life on the island, but I beg to differ. I’ve always considered myself a Jamaican first and foremost. I grew up with Caribbean values, despite spending a most of my childhood here in America.
That said, I’ve always grappled with assimilating into the American culture. We lived in a predominately black neighborhood in Brooklyn and my siblings and I attended a white school when we first arrived. We eventually moved to another part of the borough and went to a mostly black and latino school. I knew then that racism existed, but I didn’t experience it first hand – that’s probably because I was too young to even notice back then. In retrospect, I can recall moments where I was probably treated differently because of the color of my skin.
My family talked about racism and kept my siblings and I abreast of the social injustice that we may someday face in our lifetime. Whether it was watching “Roots,” “Malcom X” or just having an open dialogue about race, we learned about black hardships.
Now that I’m a parent and we have kids of our own, these lessons have become quite clear. Let me explain.
While on our way back from lunch the other day, I asked my hubby to make a pitstop at the craft store so that Princess and I could pic up some charms for a bracelet she’d been working on for her Grandmothers. We were standing at the check out line when I spotted a few 20 dollar bills on the floor.
I picked it up and politely asked the lady in front of me if the money belonged to her.
“No, I just opened my purse. So it can’t be mine,” she answered.
I then told the cashier about the money and she told me that she had to report it. “I can ask the lady that just left if it’s hers,” I volunteered – referring to the customer who was ahead of the lady in front of me that was probably still inside of the store.
She proceeded to get on her headset and report the lost cash to a manager. Then out of no where stated, “I have a customer who is trying to run off with the money.”
WHAT????
I couldn’t believe what I just heard this woman accuse me of. It took every bit of strength in me to not lose my cool. I then told the employee that I’ve been in this same situation where I lost money, and I just wanted to make sure that it’s returned to the rightful owner. Besides, I was with my child. How dare she accuse me of such a thing?
The manager then came over and I handed the money over to her. The woman behind the register gave me a half ass apology, I made my purchase, and left the store asking myself, “What the hell just happen?”
My husband and I later talked about what transpired. Why would she accuse me of trying to “run off with the money?” My hubby then pointed out the obvious. I was in a white neighborhood and the only black person in the store.
He’s alway told me about how divided our county is, but I never really thought about it until we began having kids. Trying to find activities for the kids in a diverse community is pretty hard to come by, which brings be back to my childhood of always feeling stuck in the middle of two cultures.
Fast forward to a craft birthday party our daughter was invited to. From the moment we arrived, I felt a bad energy. Being the bubbly person that I am, I tried to introduce myself and make the best of the weird situation. But, no one greeted us. It took a while, but we eventually found a seat.
All the kids were at the table with their pottery and paintbrush in hand. One child asked for the skin color paint, which happened to resemble caucasian skin tone. I picked up the paint and noticed the all white cartoon characters on the bottle. I canvassed the table to see if there were any other flesh toned paint that represented other races and ethnicities, and didn’t see any.
When Princess asked for the skin color paint by name, one of the party-goers pointed her in the direction of the regular brown paint further heightening the awkward moment. But at the same time, I certainly appreciated the little girl referencing that we are all different colors. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. However, I do have a problem being excluded. I don’t want my kids to grow up feeling ignored.
In case you’re wondering, I didn’t mention the insensitivity to anyone at the party. I could have called the craft store’s corporate office, but decided to just let it go.
Princess got the charms for her Grandmothers and made them both a bracelet for Mother’s Day. As far as the party is concerned, she said she had a great time. I don’t feel it necessary to draw attention to it at this point because she is a child.
I’m okay with her seeing the world through rose colored glasses. But don’t get me wrong; we’ve talked about racism. I’m just careful not to overdue it at this age. As our kids get older, I’m sure we’ll have these discussions. I try to be optimistic that the world will become a better place without bigotry, and we’ll become visible to those who claim “they don’t see color.”
But, I’m also a realist. We still have a long way to go before then. We live in a world of different races, ethnicities, and cultures, and yet tolerance is so hard to come by. I know that there are many people who may read this post and not understand where I’m coming from. Maybe I’m being a little too sensitive or maybe I’m way off base. You are certainly entitled to your own opinion.
Ironically enough, I googled that particular paint color from the party and couldn’t find it any where. I’m hoping that the next parent who decides to throw a craft party to make sure to have paint that represents us all. For the person working the register, don’t assume that if a black person finds money that she’s going to “run off” with it.
What are some of your parenting challenges? Why do you think racial tolerance is so hard to come by?
So funny you would post this now. Mother’s Day just passed and all the kids made paintings of their moms. We live in Japan and I am sure that the teacher was not going to take the time to provide my child with brown paint for the skin. He may be the only bi-racial kid in his class, in addition to that, Japanese are very much against “different”. It seems they try to act like there is no difference. It annoys me, but this IS still a very homogeneous country. What can I do? How many tan faced mommy pictures should I receive? Does it matter?
I’m so sorry you experience that. I never understood why people say they “don’t see color” or people as “different” and think it’s a good way to think/feel. I find that insulting. We are different, whether we have different skin color, eye color, short, tall etc. The key is to know that we are all different and accept and celebrate our differences. The teacher should have provided brown paint. Have you tried asking the teacher? It takes someone to take a stand for something to change.
You are right. I have to work up the nerve. In America it is a no brainer, but here you could relegate yourself to a life of misery for going against the grain. I don’t want my child to have a hard time here, especially since it is the only home he really knows at 4 years old.
Parent Teacher night is coming up. We will see.
Thanks!
Tara
Yea, it’s tough. Knowing that there are challenges is the first steps. I think ignoring it completely will lead to problems. But, I also choose my battles. Good luck at parent teacher night.